


Pathosis

by HedonistInk, ZeroCrowe



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Dry Humping, Everyone is Dead, Gay Marco Bott, M/M, Pandemics, Pansexual Jean Kirstein, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Survival, Violence, mentioned masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 111,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6522802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk/pseuds/HedonistInk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroCrowe/pseuds/ZeroCrowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When people in China started getting sick everyone thought it would be just like the other flu viruses that happened and were labelled ‘epidemics’, no one thought it would lead to so many deaths or would spread globally so quickly. PME (or "pyrexic maculopapular encephalopathy" as they called it) was something no one knew the origin of. No one was prepared and nothing that was tried even slowed it down let alone cured it. Nor were they prepared for the horrible effects of the disease. But there were those who were immune. And even fewer who got it and survived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We're excited to present Pathosis. The first piece we actually mostly planned out before writing it! Horray! Note: Originally written RP-format so pardon any mild inconsistencies in paragraph-order. 
> 
> Please please _please_ comment if you like it! Helps keep us inspired to post more!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Low on supplies, Jean finds himself needing to venture out of his house for the first time since PME struck his otherwise average town. What he didn't expect was to run into another living person on that supply run. Much less to start out on a journey across the entire country. But... anything had to be better than staying where he was, right?

Jean was hungry, and  _ thirsty _ . When people in China started getting sick everyone thought it would be just like the other flu viruses that happened and were labelled ‘epidemics’, no one thought it would lead to so many deaths or would spread globally so quickly. PME (or "pyrexic maculopapular encephalopathy" as the scientists called it) was something no one knew the origin of. No one was prepared and  _ nothing _ that was tried even slowed it down let alone cured it. But there were those who were immune. And even fewer who got it and survived. 

Jean was one of the latter, and whilst his father—the ‘better to be prepared’ type—had stocked up on a few months of tinned and dried food and bottled water when the reports came in about China he was now out of both food  _ and _ water. Not only that but his parents were both deceased, wiped out by the disease and it’s horrifying effects. Jean had been sick too, awfully, terrifyingly so and yet somehow he’d gotten  _ better _ and he didn’t know why, wasn’t even sure it was  _ worth _ it because now he was alone and everyone on his block was  _ dead  _ and rotting. He’d checked.

Still, the instinct to survive had Jean stepping out of his house and squinting in the low hanging but blindingly bright sunshine of the early March sunlight. A pair of stonewash jeans, some black slip on vans and a plain white t-shirt his only protection against the slight chill in the air as he set out towards the centre of town and the shopping district. 

It was eerily quiet, not just lazy Sunday quiet but  _ dead _ quiet. There wasn’t even any background noise that would usually be there such as traffic or muffled sounds of TV’s or lawn mowers or children playing somewhere far off. Of course the sound of birds singing and trees rustling was there but that wasn’t  _ right _ for somewhere that had been so full of human life. Jean still felt shell shocked by it all and wrapped his arms around himself with a shiver of despair and a pained look as he stepped over the bones of what looked to be a sickeningly small body.  A kid. 

Gritting his teeth Jean broke into a run, legs and lungs aching and throat sore where he’d been two days without water already before he’d relented. He was tired and weak but he ran anyway and by the time he made it to the large grocery store he was out of breath and gripping at his chest, shakily walking into the darkened store. It looked way too neat compared to what he’d thought it would, the virus obviously hitting more quickly and devastatingly than most people thought it would and no-one had much time to panic and ransack the area. That struck Jean as both terrible and a blessing… and yet he knew the pain of having the illness and he wasn’t sure if he should call it’s quick decline a ‘blessing’.

Jean had survived but he was still only doing that, he was no longer  _ living _ in the sense of enjoyment and life goals and all those things kids grow up wanting. Everything of the way of life he’d known was gone and he was counting the days until his own death because there was no way he could carry on if he ran out of food or there were more ‘Ferals’ roaming the streets. Even if Jean saw another person he himself no longer looked ‘typical’ and he wondered if he’d be killed or just shunned. His hair had completely fallen out, not just on his head but his  _ entire _ body had lost its hair—a side effect of having the virus—but as he got better it grew back and now it tickled his forehead and ears and was in danger of annoying his eyelids because it grew quickly but it was  _ white _ . Not only that but the patches of tiny blisters that formed all over him instead of advancing into necrotising fasciitis had healed peculiarly so it looked like he was covered in patches of white freckles or even blotches in some areas, it seemed more noticeable since his skin was slightly tanned from years in the sun, too. He felt like a freak and looked like one too. 

But right now he was a  _ thirsty _ freak and he made a beeline for the drinks aisle and grabbed up a 2 litre bottle of water with a grateful moan, uncapping it and drinking the lukewarm fluid down desperately. He spilled some, running out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin to soak the front of his shirt a bit but he didn’t  _ care _ because it tasted  _ so good _ and his throat felt amazing no longer parched. 

Marco knew what he had to do now. He knew where he had to go. He'd heard the broadcast on the CB radio that he'd finally managed to get working after  _ days _ of tinkering with it. There were  _ people _ out there, an actual group of people. And it wasn't pre-recorded either because they'd been sure to say the  _ date _ in their message. At least the hoard of horror and apocalypse movies that had come out over the decade previous had been good for  _ something _ , with their recurring 'we got there but the message was old' themes that only served to set up for sequels. 

Still, Marco never thought he'd be  _ living _ one of those. But when people started getting sick and then  _ dying _ or worse  _ not dying _ and just going  _ Feral _ , he and his parents had been quick to realize that was what was happening. His mother in particular was an immensely practical person just like Marco's grandfather had been and Marco was glad for it. As soon as it was clear that it was ONE that had hit their town, she'd set him and his dad to work watching the people outside, tracking symptoms, identifying markers, the progression of the disease. He was fairly sure at this point he knew more about the disease than anyone. Marco's notebook was packed with field notes and sketches, both his notes and the notes he'd copied out of his dad's notebook after he and Marco's mother… hadn't come back from a supply run. Marco knew what had happened. There wasn't any question. They were dead. 

Shortly after that, the streets got even quieter and Marco had gone out for long enough to get the CB radio. Just to see if there  _ was _ anyone else out there. Then a few days later, there he was, packing a large camping backpack with as much food—mostly meats and fish in pouches, not tins; no sense in unuseable water weight—and water as he could carry along with other supplies. It was lucky, in a bizarre way, that theirs was one of the first places to get hit. Panic hadn't had a chance to set in and the shelves were still pretty stocked. Not that there was anything  _ lucky _ about the corpses littered around. 

Marco froze when he heard noise from an aisle or two away. It sounded like human noise. A bottle opening and drinking sounds? He frowned, hand going to the hunting knife—his grandfather's—at his belt. He hadn't seen anyone outside except for a few stray Ferals in days. But opening a soda bottle didn't  _ seem _ like a Feral thing to do. Carefully and quietly closing his backpack up and shrugging it onto his shoulders, he edged around the end of the aisle, heart pounding. There was definitely a person there. …Drinking water? The guy's hair was… definitely not normal. But it wasn't  _ patchy _ either. So he couldn't have been a Feral. Right? Marco's hand gripped the knife firmly, not unsheathing it. "H-hello?" 

Jean was just in the process of pulling the water away from his lips when an unexpected voice called out and he dropped the half full bottle with a violent jolt of surprise and a choked off gasp. The bottle fell to the floor and Jean dropped to retrieve it because it was such a fucking  _ waste _ , but then he’d righted it and was standing clutching it and staring wide eyed and startled at a somewhat familiar face.

“M-Marco…Bodt?” He said, voice sounding strange from weeks of disuse and days of dehydration. But there was little doubt that the man in-front of him right now was the guy who had a locker a few away from his own at the High School, even though they were a year apart and completely different social circles—Jean was a star Track Runner and Marco was… Well… what was it they called them… Emo? Scene? Still, Jean felt a weird wave of gratitude and relief wash over him at seeing the other boy alive and he took a tentative step closer.

Marco jumped reflexively when the other person jumped, springing back a few steps and tensing. But he wasn't being attacked and relaxed slightly. He blinked when the figure looked at him properly and addressed him by name. " _ Why the hell does he look so familiar… _ " Marco muttered the words under his breath, not even aware they were spoken out loud. "Wait, Jean? Jean Kirschtein?" 

Jean felt apprehensive at the other boys muttering, hearing the words despite the low volume because there were no sounds to muffle it other than the silence of the dead. But then Marco was saying his name and he was at least partly glad he was  _ recognised _ because he’d started avoiding mirrors when he was going bald and only knew his hair was white by now because his  _ body _ hair was white and he caught glimpses of his reflection in windows at night time. “Y-yeah… it’s me. …Y-You’re not… sick, right?” Jean asked, because if Marco was sick Jean was going to turn and leave he couldn’t watch another familiar face deteriorate and drop dead. He  _ couldn’t do it _ again. 

Still, Marco didn’t  _ look _ sick. He wasn’t flushed and sweating and trembling, he wasn’t covered in a rash, none of his skin was sloughing off and his head seemed to have a full covering of hair. Dark and soft looking in stark contrast to Jean’s pale locks. Jean fumbled with the top of the water bottle, screwing the cap on so he could hold it down at his side one handed, bottle slightly flattened from his overzealous drinking. 

Marco shook his head quickly at the question. "Immune. My whole family was." Was, past tense. His parents immunity didn't mean  _ shit _ . They died at the hands of the disease anyway, one way or another. " _ But… his hair… The spots… _ " He muttered to himself again before he gestured at Jean's hair and the splotches on his skin. Definitely not Feral. "You… you had it then?" 

When Marco mentioned his family Jean felt a wave of sick pain wash over him at both the past tense and the memory of his  _ own _ family. “Mine… wasn’t…” He said in a strange sort of voice, both detached and pained if there was even such a thing. Then Marco was speaking to himself again and Jean frowned and felt his face heat a little at the scrutiny, did Marco even  _ know _ he was doing that?  “I had it… You do know you’re speaking out loud right? I… it’s… sort of… unsettling hearing you think-speaking about me…” Jean lifted the hand not holding the water bottle and rubbed the back of his neck. 

Marco gave a sympathetic if pained smile at the information. Statistically, they'd probably just died terribly. But there was a chance, particularly since Jean had survived it, that one of his parents had turned. Marco shuddered slightly, not wanting to follow that line of thought. He blinked when Jean pointed out he was speaking out loud. "…Huh? I… was?" He scratched at the side of his temple awkwardly, shifting the weight of the bag on his back. "Sorry… I… habit, I guess. Counters the silence a bit, y'know?" 

“You really were.” Jean said simply, thank god Marco was a sane human… sort of. Thank  _ god _ he knew the boy—again  _ sort of _ —and that he was the same sort of age as Jean because common factors were good when you’d been going out of your mind not knowing what the hell to do. “Mh… I guess. I… haven’t heard my voice for over a month… s’weird…” The disuse obvious in the hoarseness of his speech.

“I uhm… I got ‘better’ well over a month ago though so… I mean I know you’re Immune but like… Still… I’m not contagious or anything any more…” Jean hesitated. Had they ever even  _ talked _ in school? Jean didn’t think so, but then so many people talked to him, even though he didn’t have anyone he’d call a  _ close _ friend he’d still had his girlfriend Hitch in a weird sort of way. They did get along, but what they had was less love and more like convenience, still… she was probably dead now and that made his chest ache even more. 

Shrugging slightly, Marco slipped the pack off, opening it again and starting to load more bottles of water into it, stuffing it to the brim before closing it up again. "Doesn't matter to me if you're contagious or not as long as you're not one of  _ them _ ."  

Jean watched as Marco slipped off his backpack and filled it with more water, that probably would have been a wise idea for Jean to have brought something too but he’d been  _ so thirsty _ . His stomach gurgled oddly with being full again for the first time in a week, even if it was just with water for the moment. When Marco mentioned  _ them _ Jean gave an awkward laugh and pulled the neck hem of his shirt to one side, showing an angry but half healed gash circling from the back of his neck, down over his shoulder and collarbone and then into his shirt where the end couldn’t be seen but stopped just above his heart. “Dunno how they’re so strong when their skins falling off…” Jean trailed off and let go of his shirt, shoving the hand in his pocket and swinging the water bottle in the other slightly. 

Marco cringed visibly at the revealed injury with a slight grimace. "That… looks awful." He gave a small shrug at the comment about their strength, rattling off a few points. "Regulatory parts of the brain shut down. Pain sensors and the natural limiters the body puts on itself to keep from ripping itself apart shut off. Hormonal dysregulation boosts adrenaline and aggression. And they can basically keep going until the body just gives out on them …Or at least that's what my notes sum up to." 

“Mn… shoulda seen the other guy… Heh.” Jean’s eyes watered and he blinked away the tears as he tipped his head back, face toward the ceiling to hide it for a moment as the hand in his pocket clenched in a white knuckled ball. He took a deep breath as Marco started to talk about the reasons people who went Feral seemed strong and without pain, but in all honesty he didn’t want to hear it because that had been his mother. Still… at least hearing her pain receptors weren’t functioning correctly made it a little more bearable… she hadn’t been suffering too greatly. 

Marco quirked a brow with a frown at the way Jean seemed to be struggling with his own emotions over something momentarily. He wondered exactly  _ how _ Jean had gotten that wound. But now wasn't the time to ask. Hauling the pack on again with a small grunt, Marco stared at Jean for a long few moments as he gnawed at his lip. "I… so you're alone then?" Marco finally spoke up with his question. Telling the other boy about his plan could be a terrible idea. But then again, having somebody to watch his back or even sleep in shifts if they had to cross through an actual city could be useful. Strength in numbers. 

“I’m alone, yeah. You’re the only other living human I’ve seen since mom… she… Yeah.” Jean kicked at the edge of the pallet the water bottles were resting on idly. “You not seen anyone else? I mean Immunes or people who like… got… better?” He couldn’t deny the slight tremor of hope in his voice because he couldn’t be the  _ only _ fucking freak to recover from it… right?

Staring at Jean and frowning at the hopeful tone in his voice, Marco sighed. There was no point in  _ hiding _ it. "I have. Just last week I saw someone like… like you. Saw them get ripped apart by a pack of fucking Immune shitbags screaming that they're part of the problem. People are… insane. People in crisis are even more insane. It's why I'm leaving. There's a message out on the airwaves. A place to go. Immunes and Survivors welcome." He shifted the weight on his back. "…You could come with me? It's like… practically on the other side of the country but…" Marco shrugged. "Better than staying here alone, right?" 

Jean tipped his head back down to look at Marco when the other boy spoke of seeing someone  _ like Jean _ but he wished he hadn’t. The hope suddenly crushed under a new sick anxiety. “They killed…people wanna kill Survivors? I…” Oh  _ fuck _ . Jean felt his hands start to shake and he bent slowly to place the bottle of water on the floor before he outright dropped it. He’d be killed. If not by Ferals then by the Immunes, either way he was going to fucking die violently and he’d been prepared to go painfully when he was sick but this wasn’t fucking  _ fair _ . 

Sighing at the way Jean panicked, Marco shrugged. It was horrible but he didn't see any reason to panic over it. Then again,  _ he _ didn't have a beacon on his head. "I think they think the Survivors are still contagious, which is absurd. Or that it's going to mutate in them into something the Immune can catch, equally absurd." 

Jean put a hand to his head and tugged at his hair slightly, the burn in his scalp grounding him a bit. Ok, Marco had just offered to travel with him to some kind of sanctuary place where Jean would be welcomed too…right? That was… that was his best option surely. “You’d really let me come with you?” Jean’s tone was guarded and amber eyes lifted to gauge the other boys honestly, hand still in his hair. He’d have to hide that… maybe there were beanies here or something. He knew there was a clothing section… And a backpack. He could fill it with stuff. 

When Jean eyed him warily, asking if he'd really let him come with him, Marco blinked before nodding. "Well… yeah? You're physically fit—more than me even— and seem capable enough. I could use somebody to watch my back on the road. And… you could use somebody to watch yours. It's just practical. If you're coming, get a bag or something. Water and food, mostly. Non-perishable stuff. No junk garbage." He frowned, gesturing at Jean's arms. Why wasn't he even wearing a jacket? Marco had on three layers for his shirt, an undershirt, a t-shirt, and his jacket to pair with his jeans and sneakers. "Get a jacket or something too; you're gonna freeze out there. And hurry, I wanna get going while it's still high sun." 

“The fuck cares what they’re thinking if they’re tryin’ to kill me.” Jean groused nervously, though he knew if he was Immune and saw someone with weird ass white hair and pigmentless sort of freckles he’d be paranoid in this day and age too. Still… he didn’t think he’d attack them or outright try to kill them.  When Marco reasoned that Jean was physically fit and capable he nodded, knowing at least that much was true… well more so after he’d had some kind of food because he was starving and dizzy from it. “You’re right.” He agreed and it seemed to make his mind up.

“I’ll go get the shit and meet you at the storefront in like five minutes then.” Jean said as Marco listed things, the look at his attire wasn’t missed. “And to be honest I haven't had a drink for two days and no food for even longer so I guess a jacket just slipped my mind when I felt like I might pass out from dehydration. Silly me.” Jean flinched slightly at the attitude that came across with. “S-sorry… stress. I know you are too.” Jean picked the water up again and unscrewed the cap as he turned and made his way to the clothing section at a fast pace, gulping down more water as he went before tossing the empty bottle away.

Marco snorted at the snarky and rude response, shaking his head and sticking out his tongue briefly. "This is the longest conversation I've had with another actual person in ages. Even a shitty attitude is refreshing right now." He shrugged it off. "Honestly, I think stress left me a while ago. Now I'm just numb to all this." Stress, yes, panic, no. He knew going out on the road meant they were likely to encounter more awful Immunes and Ferals and they'd have to defend themselves and that concept terrified him. The idea of having to actually fend someone off… But it had to be done. 

Jean grabbed a large backpack, swiped his hair back and pulled on a black slouchy beanie that hid it well and then grabbed a fleece lined hoodie, pulling it on with a soft grunt before making his way to the food aisles. Jean grabbed a ton of protein bars, packs of beef jerky and various other long life food items that would give them energy before he went back to the drink aisle and dumped as much water in as he could fit before zipping the pack up and hefting it over his shoulders with a more strained grunt. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he caught himself against the shelves before he fell over—that would not have been advised. 

Instead Jean grabbed a couple of cans of energy drink and shoved them into the pockets of his jeans—a tight fit but they  _ did _ fit. On his way to the front of the store he grabbed a handful of chocolate coated cereal bars and shoved them into his hoodie pockets, ripping one open and shoving it into his mouth as he walked up to Marco. “M’refy.” He said around a mouthful of food. Manners be damned he was fucking starving.

As Jean was gathering up more supplies, Marco made a last sweep of the aisles. Winding up back on the drinks aisle, he grabbed a few boxes of caffeinated single-serve drink mix packets, ripping them open and dumping the little packets into one of the zippered pouches in his backpack. He moved to wait by the front of the store, munching on a packet of jerky. Eyeing Jean up, he nodded his approval, turning to head out of the store. "We need to head west. Once we hit the edge of town, we'll see if we can find a car that works." He kept his voice low when he spoke, not wanting to attract much attention in the quiet and chilled air. It still unnerved him how there was no sound of human life to be heard. 

“M’kay.” Jean said after swallowing his mouthful, taking another bite and glancing upwards at the level of the sun and amount of cloud. Luckily all the clouds were white which meant at least it wasn't going to rain, maybe he should have picked up one of those mac-in-a-bag things. Actually yes, he really was. “Wait a sec.” Jean said as they made their way out. He spun on his heel, wavering slightly as another cloying wave of dizziness washed over him, he was fine a moment later though and he jogged to the checkout area where there was a stand with umbrellas and little waterproof poncho things in bags and they would do. He grabbed three and shoved them into the front pocket of his backpack before heading back to where Marco was. 

“Sorry… thought we’d need something waterproof in case it rains. You probably already thought of that though. Y’seem like one of those brainiac types.” Jean muttered and started walking again, shoving the rest of his cereal bar into his mouth and then looking around him more carefully than he had on the way there as they moved. 

Marco blinked when Jean stopped and turned around before giving a small, vaguely impressed smile and a nod. He hadn't thought Jean, Mr Didn't-even-wear-a-jacket, would have thought of that. He reached behind him and waggled a small pouch clipped to the side of his backpack. "Ponchos, yeah. Good idea. They're pretty fragile though, can't hurt to have more." 

Jean eyed up Marco’s poncho for a moment before shrugging, the other boy was right, it was better to have more than less and it wasn’t like they were heavy or took up a ton of space. “…Do you know how to hotwire a car, then?” Jean asked after a moment of silence, curious although then again if they could figure out which corpse or house the car belonged to they may even find a set of keys.

The walk was quiet until Jean spoke up with his question. Marco gnawed at his lip for a moment. It wasn't like he could get in  _ trouble _ for it anymore. There was no one to get in trouble  _ with _ . Eventually, he just gave a shrug. "Well… It's not actually hard? On older cars anyway. The new ones with alarms and stuff are more complicated. But it's still mostly about knowing what wire to touch to where and having a good quality multitool." 

Jean watched the way Marco gnawed on his lip as he mulled over the question about hot wiring and tilted his head at the answer. “I guess… still, I have no idea how to do that so that’ll be all you I’m afraid. I’d probably electrocute myself or something I dunno.” Jean was starting to feel a little better now he’d had something to drink and eat, the headache that had been pounding at his temples was less intrusive at least.

Marco snorted, rolling his eyes when Jean said he'd probably electrocute himself. He wouldn't be surprised. Jean was a year younger than him but from what he'd seen, he still generally hung out around the sports jocks. Still, he'd never seen him around any of the  _ real _ assholes. And, in an apocalyptic scenario like this, that was good enough to be able to count him as an ally and not an enemy at least. 

Marco quickened his pace slightly, making it Jean's responsibility to keep up with him. "It's amazing what you can pick up from having your keys and the contents of your pockets flushed repeatedly." …And what you could pick up in exacting revenge from those things or just general boredom. But that didn't exactly need to be said. The victim card was much more handy to play than the delinquent card. And it was usually always better to be underestimated. 

Jean sped up just after Marco did, glancing over his shoulder as he did so. When the other boy mentioned getting his things flushed Jean raised his brows. “Seriously? I didn’t think anyone still did that shit.” He vaguely thought about the fact he probably knew the shits who did stuff like that but Jean always made sure not to get  _ too _ involved with the other sports guys because he’d wanted a scholarship to college and getting in trouble would ruin that. Not that college even existed any more. “Uh… sorry you had to go through that…I guess.” Jean stepped over the corpse of a dog with a grimace and quickened his pace again so that he was in step next to Marco instead of behind him. 

"Eh. Stuff happens." Marco gave a shrug. "People are always going to be jerks. You probably haven't noticed but our species kind of… well… sucks." He looked over at Jean briefly when he was suddenly next to him. 

“Hey… not all of us suck.” Jean said, but he couldn’t resist and the next comment slipped out before he could stop himself. “Some of us eat pussy.” He grinned and rubbed the back of his head and internally screamed because Marco wasn’t a jock and there was no way Jean should fall back onto his nervous filthy humor around the other guy but he couldn’t  _ help  _ it. 

Marco blinked at the rude joke for a moment before snorting and shaking his head. That wasn't at all what he was expecting. But it was weirdly a welcome relief to his species-depreciating mulling. With the things he'd seen, he'd turned into something of a cynic. But the joking was so absurdly  _ normal _ , it was kind of a jolt to his system. 

Weaving to the side around another corpse, Marco's eyes drifted down despite himself and he gagged slightly. Another  _ kid _ , small, and from the look of him and the injuries, it  _ wasn't _ the fevers that took him. Marco staggered off to the side a few steps and let himself take a few breaths to not puke before continuing to walk, checking to make sure Jean was with him. "The whole dead bodies thing is creepy enough but… The kids really bother me…" 

When Marco moved around another corpse of a kid Jeans’ grin subsided somewhat and he looked up at the sky for a second. “Y-Yeah… that’s the second one I’ve seen in the last hour… really doesn’t discriminate does it, PME I mean.” Jean swiped a hand down the side of his face before shoving both into his hoodie pockets with the cereal bars. “Still… I mean… at least they aren’t suffering any more…” He  _ had _ to think of it like that, both for the children and his parents and anyone else he’d known because he would just fucking  _ break _ otherwise. Jean was  _ not _ emotionally stunted like people so loved to assume, in-fact he was probably  _ over _ sensitive but he’d learned to bury it until he was alone over the years. 

"Age, gender, race, and health seem to mean absolutely  _ nothing _ to this thing." Marco shook his head. Usually diseases had some sort of  _ preference _ , some genetic vulnerabilities. But from what he'd seen, it seemed to be more luck-of-the-draw. He wasn't surprised they hadn't been able to find any kind of antidote or cure before civilization shut down. Jean's words about them not suffering made him sigh. "I dunno, all I can think about is the last things these kids saw…" 

Jean glanced sidewards towards Marco for a moment and then back down at his feet as they walked. “You know though… despite the last thing those kids saw… whatever it was. They ain’t seeing it any more, they ain’t suffering any more. They don’t see it every time they close their eyes and wake up in cold sweats from nightmares and they aren’t looking over their shoulder scared of being killed any more or wondering how they’re gonna eat and drink and survive from now on…they’re just  _ not _ .” Jean cleared his throat and tried so hard to think of the positive side of that train of thought but he was a pessimist by nature.

"…Yeah… That's true." Marco knew Jean had a point. No more nights jumping awake at every noise, not sure if one of  _ them _ got in. No more days relieved to see the sunrise but yet also not wanting to face another day of hell. He was glad he wasn't the only one with those sorts of thoughts. Then again, maybe those thoughts were normal in this fucked up new world. He'd never believed in any sort of heaven nonsense but maybe just a relief from hell-on-earth was a sort of heaven in itself. 

“Do you think the highways are gonna be passable in a car?" Jean asked. "I uh… missed a lot. I was too sick to understand words so like I have no idea what the pictures on the TV or voices on the radio were saying and by the time I came to again the networks and power were already off.”

Kicking a rock along the road with him, Marco gnawed at his lip, shifting the weight on his back. "Shouldn't be too bad. It seems like people mostly either got out early or got too sick too fast to leave. Plus we can weave around between the lanes. It'll be faster than on foot, at least…" He paused, Jean's words about being 'too sick to understand words' sinking in. "I… bet that kinda sucked. Being that sick and then just… everything being gone." 

Jean watched Marco kicking the stone for a while and answered quietly. “Not  _ everything _ was gone… yet…” He said, swallowing thickly against the sick feeling the memories left him. “But yeah… everything had already changed, I didn’t know if we were supposed to do anything or go anywhere and I just… fuck…” Jean pressed the heel of a palm to his eye harshly and turned his head in the opposite direction of Marco, voice cracking on the next words. “Yeah it sucked.” 

From what Marco had seen, Jean had always been something of a snarky shit. So to see him seeming so… vulnerable and on the edge of breaking down was just weird. It made him seem suddenly much more  _ human _ . Marco gave a small shrug, kicking his rock harder and sending it skittering into the grate of a storm drain with a dull clang on the grate and a 'kerplonk' when it hit the water. 

"Well if it makes you feel any better, you probably didn't miss anything important." Marco adjusted his pack again. "Right up til it all cut out, the news was still spewing the same 'stay in your houses, keep off the roads, keep calm, avoid the Ferals, do not engage, the government is working on a cure' nonsense that they did since day one." He scoffed, quickening his pace slightly without really realizing it. "Some cure. They didn't have any idea what to do and now they're probably all dead too. Didn't even say any of the important stuff." Marco had learned more from watching out the windows than the news had even mentioned in passing. 

Jean got himself under control again as Marco kicked the stone into a storm drain, taking a deep breath in through his nose and shoving his hand back into it’s pocket. “Last thing I remember was like… the day after Christmas… sort of… we were all sick a few days before that. But it got really bad after then and I think I sort of remember a broadcast about it hitting the US but hn… It’s really fuckin’ fuzzy.” Jean shrugged and got another cereal bar out to eat.

A noise to his left had Jean jolting to a stop and he held his breath, turning to look in the direction. It was an odd grunting, shuffling sort of noise but after a moment he noted it was a raccoon going through some rancid garbage in someone's garage. “Oh fuck I thought that was…  _ shit _ . Hours playing Resident Evil does nothing to help you keep your cool in this situation.” Jean’s posture sagged as he began walking again, already tired but he knew that’s because his body was running on extremely low fuel right now. 

"Mmh…" Marco nodded absently at Jean's words. Information had been really chaotic around the holidays. No one really knew what was going on and those who were going to get sick got sick really quickly and suddenly. But something about the words Jean had spoken took a few moments to sink in. His hand went to the knife in his belt at the noise, relaxing when he spotted the raccoon at the same time as Jean did and they continued moving. But then he realized  _ what _ it was that was bothering him. 

"Wait. Hold up. You were… sick  _ before _ Christmas?" Marco slowed down slightly, looking at Jean curiously. There was a noticeable furrow between his brows. He'd heard of people starting to get sick  _ on _ Christmas. "Your… parents hadn't travelled, had they? Say… coming back mmh no more than… four days before you got sick?" PME  _ could _ have a variable incubation period of anywhere from twelve hours to four days before someone showed symptoms. It was part of what had made it so hard to contain since someone could still be contagious after that twelve hour period even if they didn't start showing symptoms until days later. But showing symptoms that  _ early _ ? 

At Marco’s curious tone and the way the other boy slowed as he asked Jean his question, Jean felt guilt bubbling up inside of him. He  _ knew _ his mother wasn’t  _ the _ cause of the virus spreading to America, but she was also one ofthe first. “Y-yeah…” Jean admitted after a long, awkward feeling silence. “She was in France on a business trip with a bunch of other people from town… No one was sick there though,  _ no one _ seemed sick.” His voice wavered. “She wouldn’t have flown back if she thought- I mean… she  _ wouldn’t _ …” Jean didn’t know what point he was trying to make but he covered his mouth with his hand and swiped it downwards.

“S-she got back on the sixteenth… we were all sick by Christmas… Dad died sometime when I was delirious but I don’t remember when… M-mom was… she was alive… but she wasn’t getting better…” Jean’s voice broke and he sped up his pace as he fell into silence again. People would blame her, Marco would blame  _ him _ . Regardless of any logic behind why the other boy would or not, or why Jean should care… his mind was swimming with the guilt of it all and he was half jogging in a matter of moments. “W-we really should find a car…”

Marco stayed quiet as Jean spoke. So his mother was one of the people who brought it there. Who brought it to their  _ town _ . But no, Jean was right, no parent would do that to their kid. If she'd known she was sick, Marco had no doubt she just wouldn't have come back. No one halfway decent would have if they'd known they were sick. But then Jean continued and  _ oh _ … Did that mean… she turned into one of them, the Ferals… 

Marco quickened his pace when Jean did but the even quicker jogging pace wasn't something Marco could keep up for long. He could walk for a respectably long time but sprinting wasn't his strong point. Particularly not with so much added weight on his back from food and supplies. "Jean, yeah, sure, fine but please slow down, please… I can't…" 

Jean slowed down at the sound of Marco’s struggling voice, frowning still but resuming the slower pace they’d started at and mumbling. “Sorry… Forgot not everyone is used to running miles…” Jean didn’t say it as a jab at Marco’s fitness or ability, it was just a comment because  _ not _ everyone did. Jean only did because he enjoyed it and it helped clear his mind, it wasn’t a team sport—he wasn’t very good at those—and on the long distance runs he could just sort of daydream even if he was left bonelessly exhausted by the end of it. “Do you… need to stop for a moment?” Jean said, turning to look at Marco. 

Marco did his best to catch his breath once Jean finally slowed down but still continued walking. A few gasping breaths broke apart his words as he gave an indignant laugh. "Mile **_s_ ** . Plural? Running? …Yeah, no, no some of us are  _ mortal _ ." He shook his head at being asked if he needed to stop. "M'okay. M'fine. Just… walking. Not running." In truth extended hiking and camping trips were something he had more than his fair share of experience with and he'd put a good bet in that he could go for longer than Jean could. Tortoise and the hare, he supposed. 

Jean snorted at Marco’s comment about mortals, feeling slightly bashful about it because it was  _ sort of _ praising his ability but also feeling silly about feeling that way. “Mmh, I  _ must _ be immortal huh. I can run miles  _ and _ I survived this shitty virus, I even look like a real fucking freak to match now too.” Jean said as he pulled out an energy drink and popped it open. It was the same temperature as the air around them but it was still caffeinated heaven in a can and Jean groaned. “Oh god I missed you.” He said to the can dramatically as he pulled it away from his lips.

Marco walked a bit sideways for a few paces, considering Jean's features. Sure the whole white hair and eyebrows thing was a bit… weird. And the odd tone of his skin with its white spots and patches. But it didn't look  _ bad _ by any means. At least, not in Marco's opinion. Finally, he shrugged, walking forwards normally again. "I don't think you look like a freak. Kind of look like an anime nerd though with the whole white hair thing, though. Not a terrible look, overall." 

Biting at his lip, Marco wondered if he'd ventured too far into vaguely-flirting territory by accident. He was going to have to try to keep that in check. Jean was pretty hot, Marco was pretty gay, and he was pretty sure that might be a problem. He didn't know what Jean's personal stance on it was but he'd gotten enough jibes about being gay from jocks in general to be wary. 

Jean almost missed the scrutiny he was receiving, but the tail end of it was enough to make him feel self-conscious anyway. When Marco mentioned anime nerds Jean rolled his eyes and didn’t outright say he might have secretly been one, instead settling for. “Yeah I’m a regular fucking Kaneki Ken.” He took another drink from his can. “Not to mention this hair is probably gonna get me killed by  _ Immune _ people.” Jean lifted the beanie up to show a flash of his hair before tugging it back down again. 

A slight smirk quirked at the corners of his lips at Jean's response and he raised a brow. So maybe there was more to this guy than it seemed on the surface. That was reassuring at least. Still, it made Marco lament the loss of his laptop and the internet and  _ technology _ but the devices he'd held dear weren't much more than paperweights anymore. "Worse things to be. But I'd skip the eating people part." 

“I don’t plan on eatin’ any people thanks. Not like  _ that _ anyway.” Jean wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking, it wasn’t mere minutes but it also didn’t seem like  _ hours _ . Not yet. Jean decided it should take about another hour before they were at the edge of their small town but the roads  _ seemed _ relatively clear all this time. “Hey why don’t we… just find a car now and drive out? Won’t that be better?”

"That would be a  _ really _ really bad idea." Marco shook his head at the idea of finding a car then and there, quickening his pace slightly at Jean's impatience. "You'd attract every Feral around with the noise of the engine because it'd be the  _ only _ engine around and if we wound up finding a blocked road and had to stop or turn back or  _ get out _ , they'd be on us like ants on a picnic. I don't know about you but I don't want to wind up surrounded." Marco shuddered at the thought. 

“Yeah… Ferals… Ferals would be bad. Let’s not. Although we just have to kill them right?” Jean lapsed into silence, thoughtful for a moment. If he could kill his own  _ mother _ he could kill a bunch of stranger Ferals. He’d feel fucking sick but he’d do it and it would be so so much easier than the one he’d already killed on his conscious. “Isn’t there like… a weapons shop in the next town? We need to go there.” He said finally.

"Just kill them!? Just like that?" Marco balked slightly at the suggestion. "They're still  _ people _ , or at least they  _ were _ , even if they're not really… in there anymore." Still, the thought  _ had _ crossed his mind, as evidenced by the knife he'd kept moving his hand to at every jolt and jump. Marco gave a resigned sigh, shaking his head. "…But it can't hurt to be prepared, I guess. Just in case we get cornered or something. But only if it's  _ necessary _ . Otherwise we  _ avoid _ them." 

At Marco’s shocked and somewhat disgusted…? Outburst about killing them Jean pressed his lips together in a thin line and glared off in-front of himself, feeling even worse about what had transpired back at his home. “Well then  _ I’ll  _ kill them so your conscience can remain pure your highness. Since I’m already a murderer.” He hissed and finished his can of drink in one go, tossing it across a nearby yard harshly. “I’d rather find a gun and shoot them than get sliced up or gnawed on any day. But it’s not like I’m gonna go looking for them for fucking fun.” Jean felt defensive in his roiling guilt.

"Chill out, jeez, I'm not attacking you." Marco held up his hands in a placating gesture. "It's not exactly murder if they're not really people anymore. And I never said my conscience was  _ pure _ . It's been three  _ months _ of this. I don't think  _ anyone _ who's still alive has a pure  _ fucking _ conscience." He kicked at a large rock, sending it skittering away. "But it's still just… weird to be so casual about it, alright? That's all." He frowned, gnawing at his lip. "And for the record, there  _ are _ people who are 'looking for them for fun', okay. There's  _ hunting parties _ last I heard for crying out loud. So forgive my concern." 

Jean clasped his hands together in front of him and wrung them, his temper the last thing that needed to be happening right now. “Sorry I’m just… not over a couple things yet and I feel like shit about it.” Chewing his lips for a moment Jean continued. “Sorry I got defensive, my bad. I wasn’t trying to be  _ casual _ just… it’s gonna happen. We both know it… that’s all. And I’m not a barbarian I fuckin’ hate people who hunt  _ animals _ for fun I’m not gonna be like that.” He pressed a hand to the top of his head, shifting the beanie slightly.

Marco stifled a flinch when Jean voiced his opinion on hunting. He'd been dragged along on more than one hunting trip when his grandfather was alive. And while they'd always actually brought home and  _ eaten _ the things so it wasn't  _ wasted _ , it also wasn't exactly  _ necessary _ when they could just have bought meat at the store. And he wasn't sure where that fell on the 'for fun' scale.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco manage to find a car. And, with it, the first Feral of their travels. Setting off on their journey, they discover the world has gone a lot more to shit than they expected. And also that the backseat of a car isn't the most comfortable place to sleep. Especially when you're a frustrated teenager.

A sound to the side of him had Marco jumping and looking to the side, eyes wide. He didn't  _ see _ anything but there were more sounds from the backyard of the house they were passing. Movement sounds. Too big to be a raccoon. Marco made a quieting gesture, picking up his pace into a near-sprint briefly, trying to not let his bag or his feet make too much noise. Regardless of if they wound up getting guns or whatever else, for the moment as far as he knew all they had was one little blade between them. And he didn't want to risk it. He didn't slow down until they were a good dozen or so blocks away, panting heavily and cursing under his breath. 

When Marco jumped and motioned for him to be quiet Jean frowned and did so, hearing the sounds coming from the backyard of a house and feeling his heart pace rise as he followed the other boy away from it as fast as he could. The effort to keep quiet was harder than the effort of running with the pack on his back but as they finally got far enough away to feel safe Jean swiped a hand across his mouth and looked behind him with widened eyes. “Fuck,  _ shit _ you think it was one of those things?” Jean hissed quietly, he was already fucking mentally exhausted and they hadn’t even found a car yet.

Marco slumped over slightly, bracing his palms on his thighs just above the knee and pausing as he tried to catch his breath. "I don't… I don't know but… I wasn't sticking around to… find out." Marco shuddered at the thought of someone—or some _ thing _ more accurately—just on the other side of that fence that would have killed them both if it had the chance. He forced himself to stand upright again, still out of breath but able to at least move again. "We should… keep going." He glanced up at the sun and then down at his watch. "Should find a car soon… Look for… closed doors and no… broken windows." Those had the best chance of not having had someone bodily ripped out of them. And of still having enough gas in them to get to the next town. 

“Yeah, yeah that’s definitely a good idea.” Jean said, less out of breath than Marco but still suffering and fuck getting dizzy was beginning to piss him off. “I’ll keep an eye out, you think we should stop and get a can of gas if we see anywhere likely to have one? Or just… get out of here and find something in another place?” Jean wasn’t sure if they’d have any more freedom to relax anywhere else, if he was honest.

"If we see somewhere we can get gas… stopping would probably be good… But we also have to carry it… until we find a car. So finding both would be best?" Marco was finally catching his breath. He rolled his shoulders, trying to take care of some of the strain that having the pack bouncing as he ran had given him. Reluctantly, he clipped the band around his waist so it wouldn't bounce as much in case they had to run again. 

“Sure thing.” Jean said with a nod about the fuel. They’d be on the look out for both as of now he guessed so he made sure to scan garages and wide alleyways as well as driveways and roadsides. He saw a couple of cars that had been trashed and one completely burned out and he wondered why the fuck they’d be that way when so many closer to the center of town had been fine. 

“Ah hey… uh, d’you know any way to stop fuckin’ dizzy spells? I’ve had a ton of water and some caffeine and a couple bars but I’m still feeling a bit out of it from not eating for a while.” Jean thought it was better to ask than to just keep going like he was, even though he thought the answer would probably be ‘time’ or some shit. Still, he wouldn’t let it slow them down, the last thing he wanted to become was a burden for Marco. 

Marco frowned when Jean said he was dizzy. The last thing he needed was for Jean to stumble and hurt himself because he was malnourished. He dug in his pocket, pulling out the half-eaten pack of jerky from earlier. He shoved it at Jean, whacking him in the stomach with it. "Actual protein, not garbage junk food and caffeine. Mister sports jock, you should know that. And more water; you're countering it with the caffeine. I'd suggest sleep but… well you're gonna have to wait on that one." 

When Marco slapped the jerky against his stomach Jean muffled and ‘oomph’ noise and grabbed at it with a sort of pout. “Thanks for punching me in the gut with your beef bro, really appreciate it.” Jean snarked, opening the pack and pulling a bit out to eat as he shoved the pack into his jeans pocket. “Well  _ mister emo bear _ some of us aren’t obvious boy scouts and may have been shitting themselves too much to leave their house for ages.” Jean spoke back in the same tone Marco had used and took another bite of his jerky before pointing at a half open garage. “Theref gaf m a far.” Jean said around the food before chewing rapidly and swallowing too quickly, leaving a sort of lump in his throat but he could speak. “Sorry look there’s gas and maybe a decent car over there.”

Marco choked on his own throat at Jean's snarky and  _ lewd _ comment. He looked away, a blush tinting at his cheeks. But the 'mister emo bear' comment had him snorting regardless. He debated countering the 'emo' label that had been slapped on him but decided against it. It  _ was _ kind of accurate to how he usually dressed. So instead he just shrugged. "My mom's side of the family liked all that fend-for-yourself nature crap." 

Frowning at the half-open garage, Marco debated approaching it. "Opening the garage is gonna make noise… And we don't know who's— _ what's _ going to hear it." That was assuming there wasn't anything unpleasant  _ in _ the garage either. Marco looked back at the mostly wrecked cars they'd passed recently. Apparently closer to the edge of town people had had more time to panic and freak out and try to flee. "Alright. We'll try it. But… just… be on your guard, okay?" He turned, heading for the garage. 

“What like… prancing around naked n shit?” Jean was  _ joking _ but he wanted to see Marco’s reaction, playing an idiot jock had been Jean’s way of getting through high school up til now anyway, so it didn’t pain him any to keep the act up for now. “Cuz let me tell you I dun think it’s the right time of year for that so it’s best you keep your clothes on if you suddenly get that nature-y urge.” Jean nudged Marco with his elbow and followed the other boy towards the garage quietly.

Marco snorted at the idea of prancing around naked. Still, he debated telling Jean but at this point he decided quickly on a 'fuck it' sort of outlook. "Prancing around? Not so much. More like I learned how to trap and skin a rabbit when I was ten and if someone dumps me in a forest, I can navigate out with the sun. I hated it but hey I guess it's coming in handy now, right?" He gave a small shrug, hoping to downplay it as much as possible, particularly the killing things bit. He pulled the hunting knife from his belt, ignoring the way his hands shook. "And we've gotta get you something to defend yourself so… work on that." Hesitating, Marco banged on the garage door once, listening for movement. 

Jean snorted at Marco’s words when he just decided to state facts, no fun. “Heh well then at least I know if we run out of clothes I have you to fashion me a loincloth out of rabbit fur.” Nodding when he was told to be on his guard. Jean jerked in surprise when Marco banged on the door and listened. Jean swore internally but heard nothing and after another moment he was the first to duck under and into the space, looking around quickly. It was empty aside from some shelves of tools and supplies, a couple of gas cans and a car. A car that wasn’t smashed up, a car that might even fucking  _ work _ even if it was very obviously something a chick would be more inclined to drive. 

“It’s clear let's get this fucker open.” Jean said, looking around for something to try and get into the car with and his eyes fell on a large monkey wrench, the length of his forearm. Well that would do as a weapon for now, he picked it up and shoved it  across the small of his back, held up by the straps of his backpack as he made a face at Marco. “How the fuck do we open the thing?” He asked, trying a door and finding it was, indeed, locked.

Oh, Marco  _ really _ didn't want to think about Jean in a loincloth. Well… it wasn't that he explicitly  _ didn't _ want to, but the thought certainly was  _ not _ helpful at that particular moment. He did  _ not _ want to be dealing with awkward boners over the presumably straight jock dude he was supposed to have as his  _ traveling _ companion. 

Looking at the shelves, Marco shoved the knife back into his belt and eventually found a long piece of metal about the thickness of his pinky and a wooden wedge-like object that he wasn't sure if it was a doorjam or what. He shoved the wedge into the seam of the door as hard as he could a few inches down from the top. "Well… Normally I'd be more careful because this is gonna wreck the hinge a bit long-term  _ but _ we're in a hurry and it'll work for a while…" He wiggled the metal through the gap that had formed at the top of the door, angling it to prod at the unlock button. He set the rod down carefully, letting the wedge just fall out as he popped open the door. 

"Abra kadabra, door open. See if you can push the garage door up and then get in." Marco unsnapped and pulled off his backpack and tossed it into the backseat. He tossed a gas can into the trunk as well before he flopped down into the driver's seat. The battery was at least working so  _ that _ was something. 

Jean watched as Marco shoved the wedge into the door and unlocked the car really quite simply and he was fucking  _ glad _ there wasn’t an alarm on it because he didn’t think his heart could take it if it started screaming suddenly. “Wow… well done boy scout, who’da thunk it.” Jean moved over to the garage door and grunted as he bent and hefted it open, stretching his arms above his head as he opened it fully and then he stopped and turned back to the car. He shoved the second can of gas into the trunk and closed it.

"I might have been a boy scout but I never said I was a saint." Marco quipped back with a slight grin. He pushed the seat back as far as he could, pulling out the multitool from his pocket. Prying open the panel, Marco tossed it out to the garage floor and clamped the knife between his teeth. He started muttering to himself again as he looked over the wires, language much more colourful when he was focusing intently. "Fucking hell… Stupid fucking… Piece of shit… Where the fuck are you…" After a few long minutes, Marco found the ones he was looking for. A few quick cuts, a jolt and curse as he electrocuted himself slightly, and then the engine started with a triumphant cheer from Marco. 

Jean took off his own pack and shoved it into the back, wrench still in hand as he watched Marco working. “Do you talk to all the ladies like that after you get under their dashboards or is this one special?” He winked and then froze as he heard a noise over Marco seemingly electrocuting himself. Jean turned his head to look out of the open garage door and his heart leapt into his throat because that person coming at them from across the street was not a fucking person any more. “F-fuck … _ fuck fuck Marco _ !” Jean panicked and threw himself into the car, slamming the door and leaning over Marco’s lap to slam the other boy's door too. “We got company. Like the walking fucking dead kind of company. Reverse… move… drive… Something… she’s getting closer!” 

Marco choked slightly at Jean's words and was about to respond to the comment about dashboards with something probably far too revealing as the car started. But then Jean was panicking and throwing himself into the car and  _ leaning over him _ and closing the door and Marco tensed as he looked in the rearview mirror. He was sure he didn't  _ want _ to look. But he  _ had to _ . And he regretted it immediately. 

What Marco saw coming at them was enough to fuel his nightmares for a good while. The woman was  _ red _ and most of her skin appeared to have fallen away, only a few long dark strands of hair clinging at her head. He dropped the multi-knife somewhere—he wasn't even sure where, just that it was somewhere at his feet—and whacked the door lock button. He didn't even stop to adjust his seat forward again but instead just scooted forward uncomfortably to reach the pedals as he slammed the car into gear, backing out at an obscene speed. By that time she was almost at the back of the car and  _ terrifying _ . And he had no choice but to hit her. There was a sickening crunch from the speed of the impact and then a bump with another crunch as the car wheels presumably ran over  _ some _ sort of body part. Marco didn't dare to look at what they were leaving at the entrance to the garage, turning the wheel at the end of the driveway and stopping only long enough to shift gears, shove the seat forward at least a little bit in the time it took the car to stop, and speed forward instead. He didn't look back, focusing instead only on the houses to either side of them, hands tense on the wheel. 

Jean was looking back the entire time, hand clenched tight around the monkey wrench and trembling with the force of it as Marco slammed the car into reverse. Jean wished he hadn’t seen the way her shoulder hit the back window and sort of… liquified. He gagged as they reversed over her and sped off, unable to help looking back at the mangled mess they’d left behind just to make she she wasn’t going to get up and come after them. But her head was crushed and Jean really hadn’t needed to know what colour brains were in quite such detail—sort of a grey purple covered in blood.

He spun to sit the right way when they paused and Marco adjusted things, slapping a hand over his mouth as he gagged again and retched with a gross sort of sound. Jean dropped the wrench to the footwell by his feet and slapped his other hand over his mouth, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth for a moment until he didn’t feel like vomiting was imminent. 

Marco stayed tense for a solid few minutes. He kept glancing over at Jean, wondering whether he was going to puke in their new acquisition or not. He really hoped not. They weren't likely to find another halfway decent car with—Marco glanced at the fuel gauge—well over half a tank of gas anytime soon and he did  _ not _ want to have to drive in a car that smelled like vomit. 

When he felt like he could move again, Jean opened his eyes, reached a hand over to the steering column careful not to interfere with Marco’s driving, and held the lever that made the screenwash stream down the back window and the wiper swipe away the bits of blood and flesh that had been left behind. After a moment he let it go and the water stopped running, Jean flopped back in his seat and took a loud, shaking breath as he clutched at his stomach with one hand and yanked on his seatbelt with the other. “P-pull over in a minute ok y-you need to get that seat set up right and the seat belt. Whenever you feel safe enough though maybe just outside of town.” Jean’s voice was quiet and strained and he half expected to puke after using it but he just sort of burped a bit and curled in on himself. He didn’t have a strong stomach for this sort of shit.

Having just started to relax, Marco tensed right back up when Jean leaned close to him suddenly, holding his breath. But then the other teen was pressing the lever and the back wiper was going. Marco glanced in the mirror and saw the blood being wiped away and  _ oh _ yeah that made sense. His eyes flicked over as Jean pulled on his seatbelt and almost snorted at the comment. "Sure, yeah, once we're past the houses. But I'm only doing the seatbelt to shut up that annoying noise." The car had been dinging at him irritatingly since they'd started going at more than a slow rolling speed. So basically the entire damn time and it was starting to get annoying. "But for the record, if we crashed I think the  _ least _ of our worries would be head injury from not being buckled up." He  _ really _ wished regular radio still had anything but static to broadcast, the silence almost deafening. 

“You won't be worrying about anything if your brains have fallen out all over the floor that’s for sure.” Jean said and gagged again because it bought back the far too recent and far too fucking vivid memory of what he’d just seen and he regretted his words instantly. Sinking down in his seat a bit more Jean tugged a strip of jerky from his pocket and started to chew on it to counteract the sick feeling and it slowly began to work. The action was also something to focus on and his state of mind began to wind down, eyelids feeling heavy as adrenaline dropped off and his body relaxed.

Jean let his eyes close after another moment, sort of sucking on what was left of his jerky strip instead of chewing on it because he enjoyed the taste and he was so fucking tired, but he eventually shoved it into his mouth and finished it properly. “How long d’you think until we get to the next town? Is there time for me to nap?” Jean said, wondering where the hell they were even going to fucking sleep that night, but it was still a couple of hours until they’d have to worry about it beginning to get dark… sleeping in the car somewhere out of town sounded like a plan though. “What are we gonna do about sleeping tonight… think we should find somewhere secluded out of town to park the car and sleep in here?” Jean turned his head to watch Marco driving.

Sighing at the way Jean gagged  _ again _ , Marco shook his head but said nothing. This guy really had a weak stomach. And  _ this _ was who he'd be crossing through who knew what nightmares with. Great. He glanced over a few times, watching the way Jean drowsily sunk down in his seat. "You can probably take a nap. I don't exactly have to follow speed limits so I'm not sure how long it's going to take us to get there. But I can wake you up whenever we get there so feel free to powernap at least. As for sleeping tonight…" 

Marco glanced around and when he was satisfied there was no one around, he stopped the car and gestures over his shoulder. "The back folds down flat. It'll be a tight fit but it means we can stop somewhere with nothing around and it's better than sleeping defenseless outside or having to try to clear a building with a wrench and a knife." As he spoke, he adjusted his seat so that he could sit more comfortably and safely. And—after a slight hesitation where he debated spitefully  _ not _ doing it just to fuck with Jean—he buckled up his seatbelt as well before stepping on the gas again. 

Jean gave a short nod when Marco said he’d probably have time for a power nap, and that was better than nothing. Shifting uncomfortably for a moment Jean shoved his hand between his hip and the door and pulled out the energy drink can that had mostly fallen out of his pocket when he’d thrown himself in the car, shoving it in the cup holder between their seats without opening it. When Marco stopped and motioned to the back seats Jean twisted in his seat and stared at the space skeptically, but it  _ was _ the safest option even if they wouldn’t be able to lie flat unless they slept diagonally, and even then that was good for  _ one _ person unless they slept on-top of each other which was… Jean glanced sideways at Marco for a moment before flopping back into a comfortable position and looking out of the window. No, sleeping  _ on _ someone was not a good plan if he wanted to avoid awkward morning wood.

Speeding down the road, Marco swerved around the few cars that were abandoned along it, trying to not let the silence get to him. He gnawed at his lip to keep himself from talking aloud to himself, not wanting Jean to think he was even  _ more _ of a nutcase. On the open stretches, he couldn't help his eyes darting over to look at his traveling companion. Marco shook himself when he found himself staring for too long. No, no, no. No boners over the straight boy allowed. That was  _ not _ a thing that was happening. Not when they'd be sharing such tight quarters. 

When Marco started driving again Jean finally spoke up. “Yeah, sounds like the best plan of action then.” He pressed his forehead to the window and closed his eyes, falling asleep quickly now that he felt sort of safe with Marco there, driving. 

After some time well over an hour but far less than two, Marco slowed down when he saw smoke in the distance. And slowed down even more at the outer edges of the town they'd been aiming for. "Jean…" He reached over, slapping the other on the arm a few times. "Jean I don't… I don't think we should stop here…" He would have just kept going but he wasn't sure the other boy would believe him if he just  _ told _ him about it. The town looked like a large chunk of it was burnt and still  _ smoking _ . Which meant the fire had to be recent. Which couldn't possibly mean anything good. No one burned huge chunks of their home just 'because'. 

It seemed like Jean had only just closed his eyes when his arm was being slapped at and his name was being called and he groaned and swatted at Marco’s hand with irritation, blinking his eyes open and frowning. “Whu-?” Jean said, extremely eloquent in his freshly woken state he blinked his eyes a few more times before squinting out of the windscreen.  _ That _ woke him up though.

Either Immunes had started the fire or Ferals had done something that had. Neither possibility was appealing as far as Marco was concerned. And he was pretty sure he saw erratic movement down the road on the edge of the horizon. Marco turned the car around almost immediately, backtracking to take the road that would take them  _ around _ the town rather than  _ through _ it. He tried to ignore the tremor in his hands despite the way it shook his arms up to his elbows. "Well, that plan's out…" His words were blunt and frank. 

The sight of the town billowing thick black smoke was disturbing to Jean and the movement along the edges of it was even more so. Surely there couldn’t be  _ that _ many Ferals… right? Was that even fucking possible? How many people died and how many turned Feral anyways, was there more of an even ratio than he’d thought? Jean felt his heart start ramming at his ribs with palpitations and he kept looking out of his window as they turned and Marco started driving towards a different route. “ _ Shit _ … I don’t… I’ve only been to these two towns I have no fucking idea what’s where now.” Jean pulled his beanie off and dropped it in his lap, scraping his hand back through his pale hair with a frustrated noise. 

"We'll… we'll just have to find a map… One of those travel guides or something." Marco hoped the tremor in his voice wasn't too apparent as he frowned. "…They… they still sell those, right?" He wasn't sure he'd even  _ touched _ one of those travel guide map things since a family camping trip when he was about ten. That following year his mother had gotten a GPS for Christmas and they hadn't needed an actual paper roadmap since. But he was pretty sure he'd seen them in the stores still anyway. 

Jean waited until they were on a relatively obstacle free stretch of road before unbuckling his seatbelt and carefully turning to squeeze his upper body through the gap between his and Marco’s seats—careful not to bump the other boys shoulder harshly though he ended up with a hip pressed to the side of Marco’s arm as he stretched to retrieve his backpack, opening it and pulling out two bottles of the water. He grunted with effort as he flopped back into his seat properly and re-buckled his seatbelt, holding one of the bottles of water out for Marco. “Drink?”

When Jean was suddenly wiggling between the seats, Marco tensed. The other boy's hip was pressed hard against his arm. Marco glanced down despite himself and inadvertently wound up swerving again because that was  _ far too close up _ of a view of Jean's ass for his own sanity. Then his traveling companion was—thankfully and regrettably—sitting back in his seat properly and Marco swallowed hard. "Mh—wha?" It took him a moment to process that a bottle was being held out to him. "Oh, oh, uh, yeah… could you open it?" At least he could cure the thirst in his mouth even if it would do nothing for a certain  _ other _ thirst he was apparently going to be struggling with. 

Jean had ignored the swerve when he was between the seats, the road had shit all over it in places that needed steering around after all and he was oblivious to Marco’s internal turmoil. The confusion over the offered drink had Jean shaking the bottle briefly before Marco said yes and asked the white haired boy to open it. “Sure.” Jean was still holding his own bottle too so he shoved Marco’s one between his thighs and held it firmly in place as he used his now freed up hand to unscrew the cap. He held the cap in his palm and picked up the bottle again too, holding it back out to Marco. “Your beverage, Sire.” Jean said in a mock British voice before snickering.

Marco tried,  _ really tried _ to not gawk at the bottle sticking out from between Jean's thighs as the other teen opened it for him. But it was a hard battle with himself and he wasn't entirely sure how well he succeeded. Nonetheless he took it when it was offered to him. "Thanks…" Gauging for a stretch of obstacle-free road, Marco took a few sips. The bottle crinkled loudly as he squished it slightly to have to tip his eyes away from the road less. 

When his hand was free again he opened his own water and gulped down a few large glugs before breaking away with a satisfied sigh. At least they had  _ water _ … for now. Jean didn’t want to think about a time when maybe they wouldn’t be any bottled water left anywhere and then what? Collect rainwater in pots or something? Still… he hoped they’d be across the country to this compound place before that would become a problem and it seemed there were places—like his home town—that were hit so quickly that things were relatively intact. He didn’t know how long that would last though with Immunes and Survivors, not to mention Ferals… rabids… whatever the fuck this thing turned people into if they didn’t die right away.

Dropping the bottle into the cupholder, Marco didn't bother with asking Jean to cap it again. It was too weird with it having just been in his  _ mouth _ and admittedly Marco was a little bit paranoid about making the other uncomfortable. "When we stop for the night… we should probably actually inventory what we've got… Rations and stuff or whatever." 

Jean—if asked—would deny that he watched Marco’s profile as the other boy drank from his water bottle. When Marco dropped the bottle into the cupholder Jean didn’t even think before he reached over and screwed the cap back on with a flick of his wrist before capping his own and shoving it into the door cubby—his energy drink can was still in the second cupholder space after all. “Nh sounds like a plan, I take it you got a pen and paper then? Cuz I sure as shit don’t.” Jean looked out of the window and noted the sky was turning some shades of orange and purple and he felt renewed anxiety beginning to claw at him, this would be the first time he’d spent outside his house for so long since he got sick.

Marco nodded briefly in response to the question. "Pen and paper? Yeah. Field journal with my notes in my bag. Could do you good to read it." Marco glanced at the car's clock. That would have to be fairly soon. It was going to be dark soon and he'd rather they stopped  _ before _ it got completely dark so they could be sure they were in an isolated area. And maybe check that any surrounding cars didn't have anything  _ alive _ in them as well. " _ That would be good… _ " Marco nodded to himself with a quiet mutter. Shortly after, he slowed the car to a stop, parked it, and killed the engine. "Okay… uh… we should… check those cars out just to be safe and then crash for a bit. …And inventory or whatever." He gestured to the few cars anywhere within view. 

When Marco stopped and parked the car Jean unbuckled himself and leaned down to grab his wrench. “Ok, so… I can see like… five cars.” Jean swallowed thickly and opened his door stepping out and looking around quickly to make sure there was nothing immediately apparent before walking away from the car. 

Marco fished around on the floor between his legs until he found the multitool. He folded it back up and shoved it into his pocket so he wouldn't forget and then opened his door as well. "Y-yeah… Looks like five…" He knew he normally would have been  _ adamantly _ against them splitting up in any regard in an unfamiliar setting—that was basically the plot of  _ most _ horror films, after all—but it  _ was _ getting late and he'd much rather they were fifty feet apart in the daylight than still outside after dark. So he decided to go check the cars in the opposite direction. 

Aside from the road and the cars there was nothing but what seemed to be sparse woodland though, and Jean hefted the wrench onto his shoulder as he approached the first car looking far more fucking confident than he felt inside. Still… some part of him wanted to be the dependable, protector type even though Marco was obviously pretty capable of looking after himself. At a glance the car looked empty, so Jean checked the door and yanked it open, instantly jumping back and choking on a gross, loud retch as the stench of rotting flesh overwhelmed him and liquid human remains gushed out onto the tarmac.

“F-fuhck!” Jean swore and ran over to the side of the road, spectacularly puking up the water he’d just drank.

Starting to walk towards the next car, Marco nearly cut himself on the hunting knife he was drawing again from how he jumped when Jean cursed and bolted from the car he was at. Looking back, he saw the… well… human goo puddle on the road and the way it was still dripping from the car. Marco shuddered violently but steeled himself regardless. The car he was beside looked empty as well, spun sideways on the road with the passenger door wide open. He hesitated before banging slightly on the roof. Nothing. Marco let out a breath and moved along to the next car, glancing back in Jean's direction. 

The next car Marco came to had smears and splatters of flaky dark brown on its exterior that he could only presume were probably dried blood. The thought made him shudder. But the back seat had  _ bags _ in it. Grocery bags. And a glint of metal in them. Cans? If they could avoid digging into their food reserves… He tried the door. Locked. Eyeing up the knife in his hand and glancing around, Marco, sheathed it and dug out the multitool from his pocket. He folded it open to the screwdriver bit and tugged his jacket down over his palm to protect his hand before hitting the corner of the glass with as much strength as he could. It shattered, thankfully—scraping his fingers and bending the bit slightly in the process but it still  _ worked _ . Ignoring that and the rotten smell inside the car, he folded and put away the tool before he unlocked and opened the door. Tugging the bags out onto the road, he started to rummage through them. With two not-rusted-or-damaged cans of chicken soup shoved under one arm and a bag of potato chips in his hand, Marco turned to—rather triumphantly—head back to the car that would be their effective camp for the night. 

Jean forced himself not to be sick again by gritting his teeth and standing up, the back of his hand pressed hard against his mouth as he counted his breaths through his nose until he felt less like he was going to spew again. The smell was still wafting through the air—decay had a tendency to do that—but he was getting a little more used to it and he glanced around to make sure Marco was ok. 

Seeing that the other boy was fine and in the process of smashing a window Jean moved in the opposite direction and checked the last car. It was empty and smashed up and there was nothing of use inside other than a large picnic blanket in the boot which he leaned in to grab. Thankfully it was free of glass or any other detritus and he hefted it under an arm as he made his way back to their stolen car where Marco had arrived a few moments earlier. “Hey I found a blanket, it still gets pretty fucking cold at night and it’s not like we can have the heating on. I mean… thought it might be useful at least whilst we have the car.” He shrugged a shoulder as he tossed it into the front seat and moved around the back of the car to try and figure out how the seats went down.

Blinking at the blanket, Marco nodded, doing his best to bite down a hot flush to his cheeks at the fact Jean was so casually suggesting they  _ share _ a fucking blanket. Marco nearly smacked himself. No homo there. Nope. None at all. Entirely lacking in homo. Just two dudes sharing a blanket for temperature reasons. Yep. Pushing himself through it, he waggled the bag of potato chips, dumping the two cans onto his seat. "I found dinner. Somebody apparently had just gone shopping." 

Marco dragged the blanket over to the driver's seat with the cans and dropped the chips on top before he lugged their backpacks onto the floor and seat of the passenger's seat. They couldn't exactly sleep with their backpacks but if something happened and they needed to get going quickly, he needed to still be able to  _ drive _ the car. "Need any help back there?" Marco spoke up after a moment of Jean seemingly poking around in the back. 

Jean peered over the seat backs as Marco waved the food and lifted his brows. “Sweet. Better than a cereal bar at least.” Jean smiled, still feeling a little queasy but hungry none the less. He ducked his head again when Marco started to move things around in the front seats and then he noticed the small levers at the back to flatten the seats. “Ah. Nah I’m good just found it.” Jean leaned into the trunk and grabbed the small latches, pushing the seat forwards and down as he held them up and he ended up half climbing in at the same time, one foot still on the ground and the other knee up inside the car. 

Jean let himself flop over the space he’d created half in—half out of the car and groaned. “Ok I’m done.” He said with a sigh. He remained there like that for another moment before crawling into the car and turning to rest his back against the windows where a back door would have been if the car had any. “Get in and lock up then might as well.” He paused. “Actually wait I’m gonna piss because there’s no way I’m going out there in the dark to do it.” Jean rolled across the space before Marco got in and jogged to the edge of the road a few feet away and off of it, standing half obscured by a roadside bush as he unzipped his pants and relieved himself. 

Marco struggled to not gawk at the way Jean was bent when he groaned and collapsed and just stayed like that. He was  _ really _ glad he wasn't  _ behind _ the car because he didn't think he could handle a view like that. He turned his gaze forcibly away after a moment, not looking back over until Jean suggested locking up. He moved to shut the door but stopped when Jean jumped out of the car to go relieve himself. Well, at least it would put off the whole 'curled up in a car together' thing by a few extra moments. And it  _ did _ sound like a better idea than having to go during the night or after the darkness of the night had set in. "Yeah… good thinking, actually…" 

Debating with himself a moment, Marco walked over to the next bush in the opposite direction and did the same. That done, he headed back to the car and moved the blanket, potato chips, and soup cans to the back. Locking the car, he checked the doors were shut tight and pulled the multitool out of his pocket for the little can opening piece before moving to climb into the back and scoot himself as far into a corner as he could. Sitting cross-legged, he tried to make himself as small as possible, fiddling with the tool absently as the reality of 'I'm going to be spending the night curled up in a car in the middle of nowhere with a practical stranger while who knows what roams—lurks or  _ whatever _ it was Ferals did when they weren't busy mauling something—outside' set in. 

Jean finished up and noted idly that Marco had decided to do the same—without looking at the other boy because Jean was  _ not _ a creeper ok, kinks aside. He zipped up and went to make sure one last time there was nothing lurking nearby by standing on the back of the open car trunk and peering around. Satisfied that there was no movement in the swiftly dwindling light Jean dropped and climbed into the back just before Marco did, curled on the opposite side from the other boy Jean leaned across and pulled the trunk closed with a slam and a wince. Still… at least they were in a semi safe, enclosed space.

Jean tried not to let his anxiety get the better of him at the thought of spending the night in a cramped space with so many fucking windows when it would be pitch black outside. Thoughts of things at the windows when he looked outside were just too much and he watched Marco fiddling with the multitool in his hand. “So uh… this is it for the night huh…” He said, not really knowing what the hell to say to the other boy.

Marco jumped slightly when Jean closed them into the car. And then again when he was spoken to, looking up at Jean and blinking a few times as he tried to find his voice. "Uh… yep. This is… it. Regular five star accommodations, I know." His lips quirked into an almost wry smile as he shrugged. 

Picking up one of the cans, Marco started working it open slowly but surely before bending the lid up and offering it out to Jean. "Room temperature chicken soup? Complete with an utter lack of utensils but that's what slurping is for, right?" He started working on opening the other can for himself. He took a slurp of his soup and grimaced slightly. But it was food and it was better than nothing. So he swallowed and took another sip. 

Jean smirked at the line about the car being five star accommodation and shook his head with a slight roll of his eyes. “Yep. But honestly? This is better than being alone,  _ anywhere _ . Right?” He shrugged a shoulder and watched as Marco started to open one of the cans of soup, it didn’t look that appetizing but food was food and he was still fucking starving so when it was offered up to him Jean took it gratefully. “Thanks man. And hey I’m a half decent slurper so it’s perfect.”

Jean grinned again before bringing the can to his lips and drinking some of the soup. It tasted… pretty bad to Jean. But then he was used to the kind of chicken soup that was home made from scratch by his mom, which was something he’d never have again. He shook his head to dislodge the thought and distracted himself from it by watching Marco again. 

"Yeah… true…" Marco nodded slightly at the comment about being alone, muttering his agreement. Jean's comment about slurping and his grin had Marco choking, focusing intently on the can in his hands rather than on the redness in his cheeks. "I… I see…" He  _ really _ didn't need to be thinking  _ any _ kind of lewd thoughts about Jean but at least the blatant and overtly heterosexual comments reaffirmed how entirely  _ off limits _ he was. Even if it  _ did _ make Marco even  _ more _ nervous about saying something that came across as 'too gay'. Which was what had him praying the fierce blush on his cheeks just came across as 'awkward lonely virgin' rather than 'vagina weirds me out'. 

"S-so…" Marco searched for a conversation topic, eventually falling back on the only thing he knew they had in common. "Tomorrow when we're driving you can have a look at my notes if you want. I know you missed a lot when you were sick with it so… at least knowing what you're up against would probably be good?" 

Jean watched the way Marco blushed and couldn’t decide if it was funny or  _ cute _ and he really wasn’t sure he should be opening that ‘I sort of get homo feels sometimes’ can of worms right now, so he snorted softly with amusement. “Sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass the emo virgin.” He poked his tongue out. 

“Sure, that’d be a good idea actually I need to be up to speed for both our sakes. Probably.” Having decided his stomach wasn’t going to protest and spew everything out again Jean put the can to his lips and tipped his head back, drinking the whole thing down in one go unlike Marco who was taking sips. It was better to get it over and done with than suffer through the taste for longer than he had to after all. Once done Jean held onto the can, not really knowing what to do with it. 

Marco wanted to breathe a sigh of relief when Jean gathered 'virgin' not 'homo' out of his reaction. Instead, he wound up just giving an awkward chuckle and a muttered unintelligible agreement. Nodding in reply to Jean saying it would be a good idea, Marco chugged down as much of the soup as he could handle in one go, which was only about half the can. "Yeah… No sense in getting one or both of us killed because you don't know the best ways to take those things out, right?" 

Jean rolled his eyes at the comment about not being able to take them out as twisted to put his own can between the bag on the passenger seat and the door. “Crush their heads and they die.” He said, as if joking about it but the tremble in his tone hinted at a deep seated guilt and Jean didn’t say much more on the matter. “It’ll be interesting to find out more though, even though I had the damn thing.”

A frown settled onto Marco's features at the tremble in Jean's voice when he talked about crushing their heads. But the other teen continued on and he could only nod. "Yeah… Can't hurt, right?" Marco took a few more sips before chugging down the rest, shuddering with a grimace. "God that's so horrible…" After staring at the can in his hand for a moment, Marco moved to set his empty soup can upright on the driver's seat just for somewhere to put it. "We'll… just toss those outside in the morning…" He glanced out the window, glad for the slight amount of moonlight now that most of the clouds had blown away. At least it wasn't  _ entirely _ dark out there. "We should… we should get some rest." 

Jean shrugged a shoulder again and scratched his scalp. “Yeah it’s gross but hey it’s food right?” Jean slid down the side of the car a little, spreading his legs out infront of him until his feet were resting alongside the other boy’s hip and then he covered his face with a hand. “Fuck I dunno how I’m gonna sleep tonight with all these damn windows around us. Creepy as fuck already and the sun's barely gone down it’s only like seven or some shit right?”

Glancing at his watch, Marco gave a shrug. "Almost seven thirty." He looked out the windows, considering the statement about it being 'creepy'. "It's not that creepy if you don't think about it too hard." By which of course, he meant about what could be out there, which he was really trying to not think about. "It's kind of like camping except in a car instead of a tent. So… safer than camping, really. And less bugs." Marco shoved Jean's feet away from him slightly before moving to unfold the blanket and curl up partly under it, leaving plenty for Jean and facing away from the other boy. "If you're that much of a baby about it just hide your face under the blankie where the monsters won't get you." He gave a small snort. "Now just sleep and stop worrying. Staying up's just gonna get you killed in the day instead of the night." He wasn't sure about Jean but Marco had gotten pretty good at the whole 'sleep when it gets dark' thing. That and sleeping whenever he possibly could feel safe enough for long enough to do so. Besides, Ferals seemed less active at night usually. They could only see as well as anyone else, after all. 

Jean nodded in response to Marco’s confirmation of the time and sighed, sleep usually came sporadically for Jean and  _ especially _ at night he had trouble. “I’ve never been camping.” Jean said flatly but not harshly, more matter of fact than anything. When his feet were shoved away Jean mock pouted but didn’t say anything, instead shifting so his feet were towards where the trunk opened. “Yeah yeah. Fuck you too, boy scout.” Jean said as he was made fun of.

Shifting lower in the space Jean rolled just a little closer to Marco so that he wasn’t pressed against the wall of the car, facing the other boys back because he felt weird facing the fucking windows. He pulled his side of the blanket over himself and wrapped his arms around his chest, hands gripping opposing arms as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to make himself sleep. Still, Jean lay there for what seemed like hours before he finally fell asleep and the only thing that relaxed him enough to even do so was the sound of the other boys breathing and the warmth radiating from his body as the air chilled and Jean shivered from the cold.

Marco stifled a snort and grinned a bit at Jean's reaction to his mocking. This was good. Banter might just help keep them both sane. And it was as good of a distraction as any. He curled himself up a bit more once Jean was curled up, trying to not think about the fact that he was distinctly aware Jean was  _ facing _ him. That wasn't awkward at all. At least  _ Marco _ was facing away like a decently appropriate person. Doing his best to ignore it, he closed his eyes and was asleep quickly before the chill could set into him. 

When he woke up, Marco first realized he felt  _ warm _ . Unusually warm for being curled up in the back of a car in early March with only a jacket and a blanket. Then he registered  _ arms _ around him and panicked for a moment wondering if a Feral had gotten into the car. But the arms seemed to be more  _ cuddling _ arms than  _ killing _ arms. And a leg slung over his as well. Marco quickly realized that  _ Jean was curled up around him _ . He went to shift slightly to see if he could pull away at all. But the movement only made him  _ far too aware _ of a distinct  _ firmness _ behind him pressing against him. 

And  _ fuck _ that was Jean's  _ dick _ pressed against his ass and Marco wasn't sure if it was the angle or the pants or if it really just was that  _ significant _ of a hardness pushed against him. Marco's breath caught in his throat and he bit down a groan as absolutely best as he could—which was… not too well in his still groggy state. He was torn between attempting shifting away—even though he was basically against the sidewall of the car with nowhere to go—and just staying still—even though he didn't really want Jean to realize he was  _ cuddling _ another dude in his sleep.

Jean slowly became more aware of things but was still mostly asleep. Still, his mind might be out of it but his body was certainly aware of the heat coming from Marco, the press of an ass to his crotch had Jean’s hips began to thrust lightly to gain some friction. “Nnm…” A sleepy groan whispered out of Jean as he basically dry humped the other teen, the hand on the outside of their bodies—as opposed to the one trapped between Marco and the car— shifted down only to fumble for the hem of the other teens shirt. It was obvious by the sluggish sort of clumsy motions that Jean was still pretty much asleep and unaware. 

As if it weren't bad enough when Jean was  _ cuddling _ him, Marco was sure he nearly died when the other teen started  _ humping _ him instead. The sound of Jean's groan right in his ear along with the motions sent tremors up his spine and he bit his lip hard, clamping his eyes shut as he stifled a moan into a sort of high-pitched squeaking noise. This was so wrong, he really needed to wake the other boy up. But it felt  _ good _ too. And Marco didn't even want to  _ think _ about how long it had been since a guy had touched him intimately. Or the fact that the odds of there being any significant number of guys his age left who would  _ want _ to were astronomically low. Or the fact that this was probably the most action he'd be getting for a  _ long _ long time. So instead he let himself guiltily indulge in the grinding, trying to at least keep his hips from rolling back. 

Jean’s hand finally found it’s way under the shirt and wormed upwards to grope at Marco’s chest in an action more suited to using on a woman’s body. Still, it didn’t halt his movements when the shape or size of the ‘breast’ wasn’t what he was used to and Jean’s fingers sank into Marco’s pectoral muscle as the movement of his hips got firmer but not faster. Jean woke up a little more, pressing a kiss to the back of what he thought was Hitch’s neck before realising something was considerably  _ different _ . 

When Jean's hand was moving down his side, Marco stiffened, trying to not squirm. And then the hand was going up under his shirt and  _ fondling _ his chest like it should be a breast and Marco froze. Because  _ yes _ , Jean  _ was _ straight so of course he'd expect whoever he was rutting against to have boobs. And Marco very much  _ didn't _ . And Jean was going to wake up and freak out. Marco could hardly breathe, torn between panic over what would happen when Jean woke up and pleasure over the harder grinding movements. And  _ fuck _ the other teen's dick felt nice against his ass and Marco himself was  _ so _ fucking  _ hard _ . Marco squeaked at the kiss to his neck. And then squawked at the final grope to his chest that followed a slight pause. 

Instead of just stopping and opening his eyes like any sane person, Jean groped Marco’s chest again just to make sure it really wasn’t his ex-girlfriend's tit in his hand. Then he opened his eyes and saw the nape of a neck with freckles and dark hair and oh  _ god _ . Jean yelped.

“F-fuck!” He yanked his hands away from Marco and rolled over, sitting up with his back to the other boy and holding his hands up beside his head as if he were awaiting arrest. “I-I’m so fucking sorry! I didn’t mean… I mean…  _ Fuck _ I was just dreaming a-and the only person I’ve ever slept next to was Hitch and we usually woke up and fucked and I’m  _ so fucking sorry Marco _ !!” Jean tried not to think about how much his face was burning with a blush, how much his dick ached from being rudely denied release or how much the hand that had been groping Marco’s chest sort of tingled pleasantly.

Marco all but flinched when suddenly Jean was pulling away with a yelp and a curse, expecting some sort of blame. But Jean was  _ apologizing _ and freaking out at  _ himself _ instead of freaking out at  _ him _ . And  _ that _ was unexpected. He rolled onto his back and sat up, bringing his knees up slightly to hide the extreme tent of his pants. He faked a yawn as if he'd been awake for much less time. "Hah… I… I-it's okay… You were asleep, man. N-no homo intended, right? S-so just… don't worry about it. And let's just… not talk about this again, yeah?" The tremor in his voice could easily be attributed to awkwardness over waking up to some guy feeling him up, Marco hoped. 

Jean heard Marco roll over, heard him yawn and then the other boys sort of awkwardly stuttered words about no-homos and not talking about this again had Jean ducking his head. Hands threading fingers together and cupping the back of his head as he pressed his forehead to his knees with a loud, deflated sigh. “Y-yeah… yeah. Thanks…” Jean said a little stiffly. Still… Jean wasn’t sure if his  _ issue _ would go away without a ‘helping hand’ and he cleared his throat. “I uh… I… y’know… uh… gotta… I’ll be right back…” Jean stuttered before crawling awkwardly to the back and fiddling at the emergency release for the trunk, relief flooding him as it swung open.

The sun was just barely peeking above the horizon but it was bright enough to see around him and Jean checked for any nasties before glancing over his shoulder at Marco. He gave the other boy a guilty look, blushing heavily and rubbing the back of his neck before he slunk off into the sparse woodland at the side of the road. 

Marco blushed impossibly darker when Jean stuttered and left the car very blatantly and obviously to  _ get off _ . Once Jean was out of sight, he whined and wished he could do the same for his  _ own _ issue. But he couldn't exactly do that without acknowledging what waking up to Jean doing that had done to him. So instead Marco had no choice but to grip at himself painfully hard until his dick started to wilt. He crawled his way out of the car to go piss, sitting on the edge of the trunk once he was done.  

Jean stood behind a thick tree trunk flanked by some bushes and quickly took care of his issue with practiced ease, from years of persistent boners that needed dealing with as quickly as possible. It was hardly even  _ good _ , just  _ needed _ and Jean kept his eyes averted when he made it back to the car and moved the packs to the back again before dropping into his seat and popping open his energy drink from the day before without a word. 

"Just uh… unlock the doors up there so I can close up back here." Marco deliberately avoiding looking at Jean when the other boy came back to the car. He spoke awkwardly as he stood again, closing the trunk and moving to the driver's side to gather up their trash and toss it out of the car. He grabbed the forgotten bag of potato chips from the night before and his journal before sitting down and closing the car door, buckling himself in. "I… uh… breakfast for the drive? Sort of? And I grabbed my book. …Just don't get grease on it or I  _ will _ kick your ass." Fumbling under the dashboard a bit, Marco managed to get the car to start much easier and soon they were on their way again and speeding down the road. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Jean's a sleep-cuddler, flustering them both. Finally, the boys find a safe-looking town for a supply run. And some decent food. Now if only Jean's body would behave.

Jean had woken up the following two days in the same position, wrapped around Marco like a koala. The only saving grace to his ego was that he hadn’t woken up with a boner again yet and he’d woken up  _ before _ Marco on at least one of the days so he could untangle himself before the humiliation. Not like Jean thought it was  _ bad _ for guys to hug, just that… it wasn’t how they went to sleep and still he managed to wrap himself around Marco during the night without either of them even stirring. 

They’d driven past a couple more towns and avoided one of them because it looked like something pretty bad was happening there—bodies had been piled up like walls, blocking entry to the place on the main road in and Jean really didn’t want to think about what kind of sick motherfucker would do that or why. So they’d driven around that one too and by the time they’d found another all they had time to do there was grab some water haphazardly and run because a Feral burst out from between the aisles of the supermarket and chased them all the way back to the fucking car. Thank god he’d been missing a foot.

Marco tried to not think about the previous towns they'd left behind them. Particularly the one with the unusual  _ wall _ blocking it off. That was just  _ twisted _ . He was only aware of the one additional koala-Jean incident which had happened to be that morning. It was significantly  _ less _ awkward without a raging boner pressed against his ass and almost bordered on… comfortable. The chill morning also seemed significantly less miserable with another warm body to share heat with. But still Jean had seemed mortified and so Marco had tactfully waived it off again as accidental and no big deal with a smattering of reassurances to Jean's heterosexuality. 

Now they were approaching another town and one can of gas down after filling up the previous evening. They needed some more food, a map and preferably some weapons. In-fact they just needed a fucking break and to find those things with the actual time to get them without being attacked. At least they hadn’t come across any Immunes that wanted to scalp Jean just yet, Jean really was not looking forward to the possibility. Tugging his beanie on to hide his hair, he shoved some jerky into his mouth and sighed, opening the glove box boredly and seeing something pink and fluffy inside. Lifting a brow he pulled out a pair of fuzzy dice, the kind people hung on their rear view mirrors, and laughed. “I  _ knew _ this was a chick's car! Ain’t no middle aged dude with a penchant for baby blue.” Jean swung the dice around his finger for a moment before spreading his legs and shoving them there instead. “Oi Marco, you like my pink fuzzies?”

When Jean spoke up and  _ laughed _ , Marco almost didn't recognize the sound. He wondered what the other teen had found that entertained him so much. The stretch of road ahead of them clear, Marco glanced over just as Jean moved and said his name. His eyes fell to the dice between Jean's legs as his ears registered the words and he choked, swerving. " _ Fuck _ Jean, what the hell. Pervert."  _ Lie.  _ Marco was the pervert. A big gay pervert. "I don't wanna think about your nuts."  _ Lie.  _ He really  _ really _ did. "Fucking weird."  _ Only partly a lie _ . It  _ was _ weird thinking about Jean's nuts but  _ only _ in so far as it threatened to make him pop a boner then and there.  

When the car swerved Jean’s manliness really came into question because he sort of squealed. “Jesus fuck Marco it’s not that traumatic!” Jean said, gripping the armrest on the inside of his door. But he was soon laughing again at Marco’s words about not wanting to think about his nuts and calling him a pervert and a weirdo. He loved getting a rise out of Marco, it was pleasant distraction from the monotony of the journey and the ever clawing feeling of anxiety and how lost he felt. 

Marco's brow furrowed at the way Jean started  _ laughing _ at him. Sure it wasn't traumatic to Jean's confident  _ straight _ self. But for  _ Marco? _ The idea of his dick mutinying against him and just waving a big gay flag at Jean was  _ entirely _ traumatic. And Jean seemed to get  _ way _ too much of a kick out of making Marco flail or squirm. And the worst part was that Marco was realizing quickly that he kind of liked it. "…Besides, if they're that kind of  _ pink and fuzzy _ I think you've got some serious medical issues, man."

“Dunno if you noticed…” Jean said, plucking the dice from his crotch and leaning across to hang them over the rear view mirror. “But I sort of have some medical issues goin’ on like… all over this.” Jean used an open hand to indicate his face and then his entire body, spattered with white patches and those pale almost freckles across his nose. 

Wondering why in the hell Jean had to hang the nut dice from the mirror—probably just to torture him—Marco did his best to avoid looking at them, glancing back at Jean instead. He was sure he was going to wind up thinking about Jean's nuts and the way the other teen's cock felt pressed against his ass anytime he saw them. Great. A snort escaped the freckled teen at Jean's gesture to his body and the comment that went with it and he nodded slightly. It was a fair point. 

“That note in your book would have had me wondering if I was really gonna be impotent too as well as all this looking like a freak shit. First time my dicks worked since before Christmas the other day.” Jean said it before his brain caught up and he choked and slapped a hand to his forehead. “Ne’r mind.” He said, blushing at the memory and sort of craving a repeat except not ending quite so badly and why the fuck was he suddenly thinking about humping Marco until he jizzed in his pants; that was  _ not _ cool. 

Marco almost thought it was over and they could go back to driving into town in peace. But apparently life had other plans in store because Jean  _ kept talking _ . And he was talking about his dick and not being impotent and Christmas and  _ oh _ … If Jean hadn't cum in that long… Oh that must have been a  _ thick _ load… And he  _ really _ didn't need to be thinking about Jean wanking and cumming. That was the  _ last _ thing Marco needed to be thinking about. Trying to cover his awkwardness, Marco decided to play it off with snark—and admittedly a bit of bitterness—as he'd been doing as he pulled the car to a stop, scanning the edge of the town for movement. "Well, I guess it's good to know you humping me while I was  _ unconscious _ was good for  _ something _ at least. …Looks like this town's quiet. I say we try it." 

Jean started to automatically scan the edges of the town when the car stopped, but then Marco had to say what he did and guilt washed over him again and he chewed on his lip and frowned down at his own lap. “Look I said… I mean I legitimately feel bad about that ok? Sorry for violating you in your sleep I’m fucking gross I get it.” Jean’s tone held no bite to it, only a sort of defeat and he lifted his beanie to scrape a hand back through his hair like he always did when he was nervous or frustrated. 

Jean pulled his hat back on properly and leaned an elbow against the doorframe at the bottom of the window, pressing his chin against his open palm as he surveyed the area. “Yeah… kay.” He agreed, good mood subdued by the guilt of knowing he’d  _ liked _ waking up that way and the feeling of Marco’s bare skin beneath his hand and the way the other boys nape looked from so close behind. But the fact remained he’d done that without Marco’s consent and even if he was asleep at the time he felt like shit about it the more he thought about it. Jean had never been much of an optimist, turns out he wasn’t much for self-forgiveness either.

Marco sighed when Jean called himself gross. What the hell did that make him then? Marco decided to not dwell on it too hard. He shut off the car, hesitating before he got out. "Look, man… It's no big deal okay. I'm over it. …I guess I'm just a bit salty that the most action I've seen in  _ months _ or will see for who knows how long was some  _ guy _ sleep-humping me." He emphasized his words carefully, if inaccurately, giving a small shrug and forcing a laugh. "It's just a little weird is all. Right?" 

Not waiting for an answer, Marco got out of the car. He moved to get his backpack, slipping it on and clipping the extra strap as well. He wasn't risking sore shoulders again like he'd wound up with the first day. Unbidden, an image of  _ Jean _ rubbing his shoulders popped into his head and Marco swatted it away, closing the car door again and adjusting the weight on his back. "Right. So… Let's just focus. Food and weapons are the goals." 

Jean kept frowning out of the window as the car was shut off and Marco spoke to him, shrugging a shoulder a few times until Marco got out. “Dunno why people are so caught up on gender.” He muttered under his breath quietly before opening his own door and getting out. “Only weird thing is me molesting someone and not even knowing it. Fuckin’ sex pest is what I am.” Jean mumbled again, not caring if Marco heard this time or not.

Blinking when Jean muttered about what the 'only weird thing' was, Marco couldn't help but feel a slight hint of hope that maybe the other boy wouldn't freak out completely if he knew Marco wasn't nearly as straight as he was. But he still wasn't nearly confident enough to test that theory. And it wasn't the right time anyway. They had priorities.

The white haired teen got his own pack out and shrugged it on with a soft grunt, unlike Marco’s it didn’t have a strap for the midsection, but then again Jean was also more athletic and the weight bothered his muscles slightly less. “And a map.” Jean said as an afterthought as he grabbed his wrench and shut the door before beginning to walk towards the town. His eyes darting to any spaces anyone could be hiding automatically, pace relatively brisk but not too fast for Marco to handle or too slow that it would take them unnecessarily long to to what had to be done. They needed to be back to the car before it got dark. 

"Right, right and a map. That'd be good."  Marco waited to draw the knife from his belt until they passed the first building, keeping up with the pace Jean set. He sped up a bit to walk next to the other teen, eyes alert for any hints of movement. But it seemed like it was quiet and still. Which was a miracle compared to what they'd seen in the last few days. After a few dead-ends and turns, they finally wound up at some kind of indoor strip mall. With a hunting shop. And a convenience store that was  _ sure _ to have a map. And Marco could have squealed for joy at seeing both of those signs. He picked up his pace slightly. The strip mall was locked but with the power apparently out and any alarms therefore down along with it, it was nothing a rock to the door's large window couldn't fix and soon he was stepping inside, looking around carefully to make sure they were alone. 

Jean walked the entire time with the wrench poised, resting against his shoulder and in a firm grip just in case he needed to swing it at short notice. He switched shoulders a couple of times but ultimately he favoured carrying it on his right, because the wound his mother had left along the left was still tender even though it wasn’t open or scabbed any more. 

When they came across the strip mall and Jean saw the hunting shop he could have cried with joy but instead of making himself look stupid he gave a small whoop and made a—careful—beeline towards it. He was even happier when the shutters lifted easily, pulled down but not locked yet. He wasn’t so pleased when the familiar smell of death greeted him upon entering the store. Still… it was stale and old and Jean thought it was probably well past a fresh one… probably bones and stains by now… with any luck. One good thing about no electricity was that things with electrical locks were no longer… well…  _ locked _ . The door leading back through to the ammo was one such lock from what Jean could see, and he looked around the rest of the store to see what could be useful, maybe some kind of lamp too. 

Marco gagged slightly at the smell of death but pushed himself through it. He was the first to find light in the form of a few emergency kits by the register. Even in a place like that there were impulse buys. Tearing open the package, he glanced towards the door before flicking on the little emergency LED light. It wasn't what he would call terribly bright but it was a lot better. Marco ripped open a second one. "Hey, here." He half-hissed and half-whispered the words before he tossed the light at Jean. 

Hoisting himself up onto the glass counter, Marco shuffled across it and hopped off on the 'employee' side, sliding open the display cabinet—thank fuck for whatever idiot invented electronic locks—and grabbing two handguns for himself—feeling both a bit reassured and a bit horrified for that reassurance just by having the thing in his hand—before looking over at Jean again. "Stick to nine mil so we only need one kind of bullet." The idea of dying because they had one kind of gun and a different kind of bullet was just  _ absurd _ . 

“Hn?” Jean looked up at Marco’s call and then flailed a bit as the light was thrown at him, he caught it easily though despite the suddenness of it. Jean grabbed a compact gun cleaning kit—it was easy enough to carry but could be kept in the car and it was needed, in his mind. He slid over the counter just as Marco had done and nodded at the comment about 9mm ammo, feeling that was the best course of action.

Marco was thinking about maintenance and  _ cleaning _ as he ripped open the packages for two belt holsters and attached them onto his belt and by the time that was done, he wound up pulling out a third handgun as well for a backup. Looking along the wall behind him briefly, Marco stopped when he saw a small compound bow. He wondered if Jean would make fun of him for it but in the end decided he didn't  _ care _ and snatched it down before eyeing the assorted hunting arrows displayed on the wall under it. Finding a length he liked, Marco unclipped his backpack and slipped it off one shoulder, slipping a quiver over the strap and shoving the arrows into it before pulling the strap back on. It wasn't the most elegant, but it would work. He turned his attention back to Jean and more importantly to ammo. 

Jean raised a brow at how many handguns Marco picked up, trying to to watch the other boy strapping holsters to his belt as he picked up two of his own hand guns. Placing them on the counter with the cleaning kit and his wrench Jean dug around and found a holster that had both the belt for the waist and the rest of the setup to hold the guns because he wasn’t  _ wearing _ a belt already. He lifted his shirt and held it in his teeth so he could see as he threaded the belt on and attached the holsters, slipping the guns into them for the moment until he had the ammo to load them. When he turned he watched Marco eyeballing arrows and holding a bow and somehow that was really kind of  _ hot _ but… no he wasn’t going to dwell on it. “Nice.” He stated simply instead.

Jean moved away a bit, opening a case on the wall and pulling out a sighted hunting rifle. He  _ knew _ this model inside out, he’d never shot one but he’d spent hours staring down the sight and dismantling and cleaning and putting back together. He was stronger and bigger now too so whilst he knew there could be some mean recoil he also knew he could probably handle it. Jean grabbed a silencer too and shoved that in his pocket as he pulled the strap of the rifle over his shoulder above the backpack. He glanced at Marco again briefly before pushing into the back room and the stronger smell of corpse and  _ this _ was where the fucking smell was coming from. Still… Jean had been right and it was bones by now, he lifted his t-shirt to cover his nose and mouth and tried not to gag as he gathered up at six boxes of 9mm ammo.

Marco tried very hard to not blush when Jean idly commented on the bow, glad for the low lighting. He raised a brow at the hunting rifle that Jean had apparently picked up while Marco was pulling the quiver onto his backpack. He wondered if the guy even knew how to  _ shoot _ that thing after his 'hunting is bad' comments. Shrugging it off, he scanned the cases one more time when Jean wandered into the back room. 

Grabbing a small laser sight for one of the guns he'd grabbed and stuffing it in his pocket to attach later, Marco's thoughts briefly wandered to the  _ price _ of all the equipment they'd just picked up. Then again, something like paper money held no meaning anymore. But it was still staggering. He fumbled under the cabinet for the box from the bow and grabbed out the hex kit that was meant to come with it. Checking that the guns were safely clipped into their holsters, Marco hopped back across the counter before testing the tension on the bow. Satisfied, he shoved it under his arm and moved to one of the hanging displays for cheaper items and grabbed a finger guard, ripping the package open and shoving it in his pocket. Debating for a moment, he grabbed an arm guard as well. It would be getting warm soon and he didn't know when the next time they'd find someplace like this would be. He made sure to grab batteries for the laser sight and slung a pair of night vision binoculars around his neck just as Jean came out from the back room. 

Jean walked out of the ammo room and blinked at Marco standing in the middle of the store. “G-got everything you need there G.I Joe?” Jean said, hoping it sounded joking enough because really… Marco looked really fucking hot with all that hardware on him and Jean didn’t know  _ why _ but he just  _ did _ . “You ok to make it through a food run and back to the car like that?” Jean asked as he dropped the ammo boxes on the counter and slid the rifle off so he could put his bag down and shove the boxes inside. All but one which he kept out for the moment and got to loading the clips on his two handguns and the rifle, making sure the safety was on because he didn’t fancy shooting himself or Marco or misfiring and giving away their location. 

Marco gave a small snort at Jean's G.I Joe remark, sticking out his tongue briefly. "I  _ wish _ I was that built." He moved over towards Jean as he shoved the boxes in his bag. He quirked his head at the question. "This? Yeah I'm fine. It's just clunky but it's okay." The weight was admittedly heavy on his back but the bulk was nothing new to him. If anything, the backpack was much more unwieldy with a sleeping bag strapped to it but he hadn't thought that he'd have much need for  _ that _ on this trip. 

Jean lifted a brow and looked Marco up and down for a brief moment when he said he wished he was stacked. “Huh. Fine as you are if you ask me.” He said, moving down the counter a bit and sliding back across it with a little more effort now he had the weight of the ammo and his new guns. “Long as you’re sure then.” The white haired youth replied to the comment about Marco’s new acquisitions being clunky and decided that if the other boy looked like he was struggling at any point he’d like… take something for him. Not that Marco was  _ weak  _ by any means, just that Jean thought it’d be nice to lessen the burden.

Marco turned blatantly pink when Jean looked him over and said he was fine as he was, hoping the low lighting would hide it. He was  _ really _ going to have to come out to him at some point if only to try to make Jean aware of how blatantly  _ flirty _ things like that sounded and to spare himself the pointless fluttering in his chest. Marco reminded himself adamantly that he was  _ not _ allowed to crush on his straight traveling companion. But when Jean did things like that… it was difficult. 

Satisfied, Jean lined eighteen bullets up along the counter for Marco’s three guns and then shoved the rest of the box into his pack as well before doing it up and putting it back on. He loaded himself with the rifle again, grabbed up the gun cleaning kit and the light and shoved the latter in his pocket. “Ready? Food and map and then we really need to get back to the car because this place is giving me the creeps it’s too quiet.”

Loading the clips for the three guns quickly, Marco checked the safety on each. He slid two into the holsters at his belt and snapped them shut before fumbling behind him one-handed to slip the third handgun into the empty zippered side pocket of his backpack. Not the absolute safest idea but certainly safer than shoving it down the back of his pants like some sort of thug and getting his ass cheek blown off.  Marco grabbed his light and stuck it in his pocket as well, patting himself down to make sure he had everything before nodding. "Yeah, I'm good." He paused and moved around the counter again. "Oh, wait." 

Jean would be lying if he said his eyes didn’t follow the movements when Marco was clipping his hand guns into their holsters. He decided he was really pent up and not good at dealing with stress, because checking another guy out so much in the midst of an apocalypse when the last thing he should be thinking about was sex was fucking  _ weird _ … right? Jean turned to leave when Marco said he was done, only to stop when he was told to wait and he watched curiously as the other boy slid back behind the counter. 

Vaguely, Marco was aware that he had been being  _ watched _ as he clipped the guns in safely but he waived it off. He grabbed another hunting knife—admittedly not as nice as his—with a belt-clip sheath that he kept in his hand and a small knife sharpener that he stuck in his pocket. Heading for Jean, he held the knife out. "Last line of defense just in case. Think of it as your melee weapon. Now I'm ready; let's get out of here." He nodded at the door before heading for it, making a path towards the convenience store. 

Admittedly, when Marco came towards him holding a knife Jean couldn’t help the way he flinched away automatically. Having your own mom come at you with a knife and hurting you pretty bad was one thing, Marco was  _ less _ of a known entity so his response had been caution, but the other boy was holding it out for him and telling him to take it so Jean did. Sighing out a breath as he nodded. “Yeah good idea, didn’t even think of that. But I guess that’s why you’re the boy scout and I’m the brainless sports guy.” Jean grinned, if not a little strained as he followed Marco out of the hunting shop and into the convenience store after strapping the knife to his belt.

Choosing to not comment on the way Jean flinched—probably something to do with the injury the other boy had shown him—Marco offered up a reassuring smile as best as he could. He rolled his eyes at the comment about him being a boy scout while Jean was brainless and shook his head. "First off, why do you keep calling me a boy scout? It makes me sound like some kind of do-gooder saint. Second… I don't think you're brainless. …I'm sure it's in there somewhere." He stuck his tongue out, taking a few backwards steps and hushing his tone to not attract any unwanted attention. 

Righting himself, Marco headed for the shelves by the door, looking over them before snatching up a few different road atlases. "Besides, I would have totally forgotten about getting a map. Let's get what we can and get out of here." Maps in-hand, Marco headed down a different aisle, looking to find whatever non-perishable foods he could to replace what they'd eaten through over the previous days. The shelves were much more empty than the last store they'd found, but there were still a few things that could be grabbed. 

Jean snorted with amusement at Marco’s words about seeming like a saint, oh that was  _ so _ not the case in Jean’s eyes. No one with a dick was a saint, at least not high school guys and Jean could insinuate a  _ lot _ about tents and camping alone with a bunch of other guys but he was trying not to homo things up too much. “There’s no way I think you’re a saint, you’re only a year older than me and I know the kind of shit that goes through  _ my _ head.” When Marco stuck his tongue out at Jean, Jean just returned the action before the other boy turned.

Inside the store, Jean made a beeline for the drinks aisle again. There was much less water left here than there had been in the other places but he grabbed as many bottles as he could carry and shoved them into his pack, moving to the snack aisle he forced packs of jerky into his bag in any spaces they would fit. Jean idly wondered if living purely on jerky was even possible but it was a far sight better than dying of starvation and it had a ton of protein and energy. He shoved a few nutrient bars into the space left at the top before zipping his overstuffed bag up with a grunt and turning to go find Marco. But he paused, and stared. The aisle opposite him was filled with CDs and Jean couldn’t resist slipping down there and grabbing up three without really taking the time to look at what they were. Any music was better than none and it might help keep the long stretches of driving less mind numbing when they had nothing to say.

Slipping the CD’s into the side pocket of his backpack with a little bit of difficulty Jean nodded to himself, pleased, before walking through the store to where Marco was. “Ok I got about twelve bottles of water, a fuck-ton of jerky and some nutrient bars. I’d be lying if I said my shoulders weren’t feeling like they’re gonna break so if you’ve got everything let's get back to the car?” Jean said, a slightly hopeful tone tinging his tone. 

Marco only snorted and shook his head in response to Jean's quip about him not being a saint. He bit down a comment about Jean potentially just being a pervert instead. Wandering quickly through the aisles, Marco grabbed two six packs of 'meal replacement' shakes—they usually tasted slightly of metal but they had a complete selection of vitamins—and a few cans of fruit—he wasn't going to get scurvy from eating nothing but meat—and shoved them in his bag. He tucked the maps away as well before stuffing every remaining space with nutrient bars as well. 

Debating with himself, Marco grabbed a few chocolate bars when Jean wasn't looking before closing up his bulging bag and hoisting it back onto his back with a groan, taking care that the quiver of arrows and the bow—which he'd wound up just carabiner-clipping to his backpack—were still secure. "Yeah, let's get out of here." Marco nodded, heading for the door and calling up the route and streets they'd taken to get there in his head. 

Giving a nod when Marco was ready, Jean turned to leave the store and then the strip mall all together. Once outside again, the sun was higher in the sky and the weather was almost pleasantly warm. If not for the smashed windows and abandoned cars and the odd corpse it would be a lovely day. Jean struggled a little under the weight of the pack, coupled with the thickness of his hoodie and the sun bearing down on them he felt highly uncomfortable and downright sweaty. 

Nearing the last few blocks before the main road out of town Jean heard talking and froze, adrenaline spiking and breath quickening slightly. Those were people,  _ sane _ people and Jean found himself remembering the way Marco had said Immunes had been seen just outright killing someone like him,  _ Survivors _ . He couldn’t be happy about the sound and he unintentionally backed up slightly, trying not to make a sound as his hand shot up to his head to make sure the beanie was firmly in place, it was, but for good measure Jean pulled his hood up and looked around him. He couldn’t  _ see _ the people and he increased his pace suddenly but quietly, aiming to get back to the car as quickly as possible even as his hand clenched tight around the top of one of the guns.

Marco stopped when Jean did, hearing the chattering. The voices were low and faint but definitely  _ voices _ and that meant  _ people _ , actual people. People like him. He wanted to stop, to go towards the sound. He  _ really _ wanted to. But his eyes fell on Jean as the movement of the other boy pulling up his hood caught his attention. The memories of what he'd seen 'actual people' do to someone like Jean came back to him and he felt sick. Right. No, they weren't risking  _ that _ . 

Glancing around to be sure they hadn't been seen, Marco reached out to grab Jean's arm when he started moving again, tugging on it and gesturing down a side road up ahead and away from the voices. He moved as fast as he could without the contents of his bag making too much noise, ducking down the other road and then down another turn shortly after it before slowing down again now that the sound was out of earshot. He never thought he'd be so happy to  _ avoid _ running into anyone. 

" _ Fuck, fuck, fuck… _ " Marco's words weren't more than a hissed whisper as he looked around them briefly, trying to figure out the pattern of the roads. Thinking for a minute and breathing a bit heavy, he gestured down another road that he hoped would take them back to the main road and hopefully avoid any unintended encounters. He sped up again despite how his shoulders ached and his back hurt from the tension and their quick pace. 

Marco’s grasp on his arm was unexpected and Jean momentarily looked down at the other boy’s fingers wrapped around his limb before nodding and following him towards the side street. Jean followed as silently as was possible with a back full of water and food strapped to his back and the unfamiliar squeeze of holsters around his thighs—although admittedly it was almost pleasant. Jean followed the other boy without question and his fear subsided a little once they’d stopped out of earshot, Marco’s swearing seeming odd to Jean’s ears still because he’d seemed so fucking  _ quiet _ whenever he’d seen him in school.

When the freckled youth motioned towards another road, Jean nodded and followed him. Eventually they emerged onto the stretch of highway and Jean took a moment to get his bearings because it was slightly further along than where they’d entered before. Still, he noted the pastel blue of ‘their’ car quite a way off and sighed in relief. “Oh thank fuck for that, I thought I was gonna end up as a smear on the pavement or something.  _ Fuck _ … survive feeling like I’m being ripped apart and have to face other people wanting to actually do that to me.” Jean slumped as he walked towards the car, posture almost defeated and very obviously weary.

Marco breathed a sigh of relief to see that he'd guessed the roads correctly when he spotted the car. He didn't slow down his pace until Jean slumped. And even then, it was only to sigh heavily and grab Jean's arm again, starting to tug him along at a faster rate than he'd been going. "Yeah, okay, great. Celebrate when we're in the car and away from this place and those people." 

Shaking his head, Marco swallowed the lump in his throat at the idea that any sane human would do something like that to another. "Look, yes, a lot of people suck. There's always been people who sucked, there's always gonna be people who suck. But the broadcast  _ explicitly _ said Survivors were welcome too. So not  _ everybody _ sucks. The trick is just surviving the insane murderers with no morals while getting there. But we will. We're going to do it. But you can't give up on me now. I can't do this shit on my own, okay? We gotta keep each other going." 

Finally at the car, Marco let go of Jean's arm and didn't hesitate to unclip and throw his backpack into the back before half-diving into the driver's seat to start the car. He  _ had _ hoped they could go back into the town once they had their supplies and see if they could find more gas. But with other people around? It wasn't worth risking it, as far as he was concerned. They were still okay enough for the moment. 

Marco grabbing his arm again had Jean increasing his pace, the grip was weirdly comforting even if the other boys words about celebrating were rushed and exasperated sounding. Jean wanted to move the grip and actually  _ hold Marco’s hand _ , for no reason other than he really  _ really _ needed the comfort right then, but he didn’t and Marco was talking again. About people sucking and murderers without morals and that Survivors  _ were _ welcome where they were going. Jean hoped it was still that way when they arrived…  _ If _ they arrived. 

“You don’t suck.” Jean whispered in response just before his arm was released. A wry smile, although pained, crossed his features as he threw his bag and rifle in the back before climbing into his seat. Jean slammed his door and slipped down until his knees were pressed against the dashboard, covering his face with both of his hands and hoping they weren’t trembling as visibly as he thought they might be. “M’not gonna give up. I won't. If it was just me sure but… you’re here so I won't.” He spoke quietly, he wanted to hug the other boy for his words and for not insisting they stop to speak to the other people and so  _ so  _ much more but right now they needed to move and preferably stop on a stretch of road no-where near a town.

Marco choked slightly when Jean said he didn't suck. His brain immediately interpreted that in  _ entirely _ the wrong way and unhelpfully supplied a 'wanna bet?' that he was glad he had the presence of mind to stifle before it fell out of his mouth. He forced a shrug, avoiding Jean's eyes. He really  _ really _ wished the other teen wouldn't say things like that but he couldn't exactly say something like that without sounding 'weird' about it. And it was all down to Marco's own perverted mis-interpretations anyway, right? So it was really his own damn fault anyway. 

Marco flushed despite himself when Jean said he wouldn't give up because  _ Marco _ was there, brain putting far too much weight on the words. He  _ knew _ he shouldn't be reading into things like that and he  _ knew _ he was going to wind up accidentally outing himself sooner or later and he  _ really _ wanted to just be over and done with it but he was also  _ terrified _ that Jean would get weird about it and he'd risk losing the only friendly face he'd seen in months and the only  _ backup _ he had in their new unforgiving world. 

But Jean was  _ shaking _ . And so once the car was in gear and they were speeding down the road again, leaving the town and its terrors behind them, Marco risked setting a hand on Jean's shoulder and giving a small squeeze that he hoped would be somehow reassuring as he tried to not focus too much on the warmth of the other teen's body under his touch. "We'll get there. It'll be okay." He let his hand linger a moment, savouring the contact, before dropping it and putting both hands on the wheel again to dodge a few broken car parts and the remains of a burnt-out wreck. 

The hand on his shoulder made Jean jolt in surprise, breath hitching as he felt like he might fucking  _ cry _ just because of a comforting gesture and he was  _ not _ going to fucking cry. “Yeah…” Jean’s voice crackled slightly around the end of the word and he lamented the loss of Marco’s hand as the other boy went back to maneuvering the car. He’d been doing so well til now, and yet hearing other human voices had just sent Jean into a weird sort of scared mess, not to mention making him remember how before this and Marco the last voice he’d heard were his parents and they were  _ dead _ now. 

One of them was dead because  _ he’d killed her _ . The wall he’d built around the depressing thoughts was crumbling and Jean grit his teeth and pulled the hood further forwards and held it there just in case he actually did cry. He didn’t want Marco to see him do that. Guys didn’t bawl like babies, ‘ _ Jocks _ ’ didn’t cry and that’s what Jean had been to everyone around him but his parents. Even Hitch didn’t really know him that deeply. 

"Jean… Are… you okay?" Marco's question was hesitant as he glanced away from the road to look at the other boy. He watched the tension in Jean's shoulders and the way he was holding onto his hood as if it was a lifeline or a shield of some kind. "Is… there anything I can do?" He knew there probably wasn't. But he also knew that between getting sick and suffering from that and then his mom turning into one of them… Marco was almost  _ glad _ in a fucked up way that his parents just… hadn't come back rather than having to experience their deaths. Still, he wished he at least had some kind of  _ confirmation _ to stamp out any futile hope that wanted to itch at the back of his mind. 

Marco hesitated again before continuing. "…Y'know… It's okay to be a bit messed up about this all. I mean… yeah. Apocalypse and everybody we know is probably dead and whatever. That's… that's heavy. It'd mess anybody up. I mean… you obviously don't have to tell  _ me _ of all people what's going on in your head. But just… if it's messing with you and you need to blow off a little steam and vent or break down or whatever… better to do it now than when you're trying to run for your life from something trying to kill you." 

At Marco’s first tentative question Jean didn’t know how to respond, he just sort of shrugged regardless of whether the other boy was looking at him or not. Not because he was being ignorant but because Jean really didn’t  _ know _ if he was ok or not, he felt like he was going to break apart and at the same time he felt elated that Marco was there and they were travelling. When Marco asked if there was anything he could do Jean paused and thought and ‘ _ hold me _ ’ seemed like the most natural thing in the world to blurt out right about then but Marco was continuing before he’d even drawn a breath to speak.

Satisfied that they were far enough away from the town, Marco stopped and parked the car, pulling it a bit to the side. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to look at Jean. "Look… Talk to me or don't, that's your preference. If not, I'm gonna see if I can find some rabbits or something in the woods over there because if I have food from a can for one more night  _ I'm _ gonna break down. So you can just… Do whatever you need to do while I'm gone. So what's it gonna be? Ear to vent at or solitary emo sulking?" He had his hand on the door already, fully expecting Jean to tell him to just fuck off which was fine but he had to at least put the  _ offer _ out there. 

When Marco parked the car Jean lifted his knees a bit so he could slump down lower in his seat. Everything Marco said was true and he  _ could _ break down on the other boy and he  _ could _ vent to him but that was adding to Marco’s own burdens and Jean  _ couldn’t _ face doing that. But the mention of food— _ fresh food _ —was also more alluring than the offer to break down on the other boy and Jean shakily reached a hand out, briefly glancing to the side so he could awkwardly grab Marco’s hand and squeeze for a second before letting go and pulling his knees up. Resting his feet on the edge of his seat Jean wrapped his arms around his knees and pressed his face against them. “F-food sounds… pretty amazing right now.” He did his best to sound confident,  _ normal _ but Jean knew that as soon as Marco got out and closed that door that he’d be bawling.

Marco's gaze shot down to his hand when Jean reached out and squeezed it. He blinked down at it wide-eyed for a moment until the hand was gone and Jean was curled up in his seat again. That was not the sarcastic fuck-off he was expecting and it really just served to show that the other teen really was in a bad place in his head. Still, the fact that he willingly reached out was reassuring that they were at least building some kind of rapport. Marco let his lips fall into a soft smile. "Okay then." His tone was soft and he reached out, giving Jean's bicep a small squeeze, before he got out of the car. Unhooking the bow from his backpack and slinging the quiver over his shoulder, he left Jean alone in the car as he headed for the trees. 

The squeeze to his bicep had Jean’s nose doing that annoying tingly thing just before you cried, so he was glad that Marco didn’t linger for long before getting out of the car. As soon as the door was shut Jean felt his breath hitch, and then a few moments later he was clutching at his knees as he let out a sob and started to cry. It didn’t take long for the knees of his jeans or the arms of his hoodie to get wet from the tears and Jean eventually just shrugged out of his hoodie because he was hot and grossly sweaty feeling anyway. 

The sun was thankfully still high in the sky when Marco started his search. He tested the bow after finding the finger guard in his pocket, adjusting it slightly to get his aim straight before heading into the trees. It took him easily an hour before he managed to actually succeed in his quest, the first two rabbits he saw resulting in near-misses before finally striking the third—and thankfully largest—one he saw. He took care to gather up the other arrows and his catch as well as gathering as much broken wood as he could find and carry before heading back for the car. He figured they could get away with making a small fire for long enough to cook the meat and then snuff it out with dirt before the sun set and they drew attention. 

He didn’t know how long he cried for but Jean was in serious need of a tissue and his eyes felt hot and sore from so many tears—probably red too—but he eventually cried himself out. Luckily before Marco came back. A quick fumble around the car had Jean turn up nothing more than a rag that looked like it had been used for wiping the windowscreen of dust and he shrugged as he used that to blow his nose thoroughly. Jean balled it up and got out of the car, aching as he stretched his legs and tossed the snotty rag away, the teen pulled off his beanie and threw that into the car by his hoodie and then sat on the open trunk on the picnic blanket laid out across the back. Legs dangling out and swinging slightly as he hunched and rubbed at his sore eyes with the heel of a palm. Still, Jean felt somewhat better and less like he was going to have a breakdown in-front of Marco.

Marco dropped the wood in an unceremonious pile a safe distance from Jean as he came up to the back of the car. "Sorry that took me so long. I think I'm a bit out of practice." He tilted his head curiously at the other boy, taking in the still-present redness of his eyes and face and the lack of his beanie. He said nothing about it, just giving a small, quiet nod as he knelt by the wood. He carefully put the bow and quiver to the side before he started to build the wood into something vaguely lightable. 

Considering his work for a moment, Marco sat back on his heels and looked up at Jean. "The uh… in my bag in the top zipper, there should be a little black fire striker thing? D'you think you could find it and get it for me? …And maybe stick the bow and stuff at least back in the car? While I work on uh…" He gestured at the rabbit he'd set on the road beside him. 

Jean jerked in shock at the wood hitting the floor, he’d not even heard Marco approaching and that was  _ bad _ because if he didn’t hear Marco then he’d probably be dead by now if a Feral or another human had come across him. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves Jean plastered on a fake but well meaning smile. “S’ok, no problem. It’s pretty amazing you caught something to be honest.” Jean blinked owlishly as Marco asked him for something from the top of his bag and he had no idea what the fuck it was supposed to look like but he guessed he’d try. “Sure I’ll get it.” 

Jean was about to move when he was asked to put the bow back too and he nodded, slipping to stand and then bend at the waist as he carefully scooped up the bow and arrows and put them into the back of the car. He half crawled in, one foot on the road still and one knee pressed to the tailgate as he leaned in and looked through the top section of Marco’s bag for the fire lighter. He found it with a small triumphant noise and then slid out and handed it to the other boy. 

When Jean grabbed up the bow, Marco nodded gratefully. He partly regretted asking, however, when the other boy crawled halfway into the car rather than going around. But Jean hadn't just crawled halfway into the car, no in the process he gave Marco a  _ very _ good look at the line of his ass. An ass that happened to be very  _ very _ nice by the view he was getting. A view that was serving to go  _ right _ to Marco's fucking  _ dick _ . Which he really  _ really _ didn't need right then. He hunched slightly, hoping to hide any unwanted tenting of his pants as Jean came back over. Voicing his thanks when he was handed the striker, Marco set it to the side for the moment. 

Marco moved to pull out the knife before something occurred to him. "…You're not… gonna be squeamish about this, right? I know you said you had uh… issues with it? And I don't know if that's just when it's sport or in general or what so…" The 'it' in question was very blatantly hunting and even Marco had issues with it when it was purely 'fun' and wasteful and the meat wasn't even  _ eaten _ but he wasn't sure how far Jean's issues with it went. 

“Seen a lot more blood that that thing has in it’s whole body come out of my mouth when I was sick so the  _ blood _ won't bother me…” He tilted his head, chewing his lips for a moment in consideration before admitting the next thing. “My uncle used to hunt. He wanted me to as well, so I’d be sent to stay with him—my parents didn’t know—and he’d take me hunting, teach me about guns n stuff… But he didn’t kill them right away, he liked to torture them and I’d have nightmares of little rabbit screams and shit. I just… people doing that shit for  _ fun _ pisses me off. But you’re not like that, and this is survival. So I’m good.” 

Marco grimaced at the thought of Jean presumably puking up that blood, a shudder running through him. Still, he took the acknowledgement as it was, pulling up his sleeves and starting to work on preparing the rabbit as he leaned forward in an attempt to not get the blood—or at least not too much of it—on him. When Jean told him about his uncle, Marco tensed, nearly winding up cutting himself in the process as his stomach gave a sick heave and he tried to collect himself. "People can be some seriously sick fucks… Ugh…" He internally hoped the asshole had been ripped apart by Ferals rather than just dying. 

Jean hovered for a moment before his lips twitched up in a genuine smile. “I can do  _ something _ whilst you do that though.” He said, turning and disappearing into his front seat in the car. After digging into his bag for a moment Jean found what he was looking for and slid the CD into the stereo, he was surprised it worked when the car wasn’t out right running but he was glad of it as the music started to play at a decent volume. Not blaring but loud enough to hear from where Marco was easily and there was no-one else around for what looked like miles so Jean decided it was worth the risk to lift his mood. He slipped out of the car and got to the back just in time for the singing to start, Bonnie Tyler’s voice ringing out as Jean joined in with a dramatic “Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods?” Grinning as he spread his arms out.

Marco blinked when Jean said he could do something, looking as he headed for the car before shrugging and going back to his work. The sudden sound of music made him jump slightly and pause. Where had Jean found music? He looked up as the other boy came back and could only gawk at the dramatic rendition being played out in front of him. "Jean… what… when did… oh my god…" He couldn't help himself; he laughed.  _ Really _ laughed. He hadn't heard  _ music _ since shortly after the power had gone out when his mp3 player had died. And somebody cheesily singing along to 80s music was just so terribly absurdly  _ wonderfully _ normal. And contrasted so  _ completely _ with their surroundings and everything that had happened and it was just  _ good _ . 

Jean carried on singing, through Marco’s disbelieving words. “Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need. I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero 'til the e-end of the n-ight hehehh!” Marco’s laughter was infectious though and Jean dissolved into fits of giggles because the sound of the other boys mirth was  _ amazing _ when not long before Jean had felt so devastated. The music helped, too. 

Jean grinned, pleased he’d made the other boy happy even for just a moment, cheeks pink from laughing and embarrassment about singing Bonnie Tyler in-front of someone else. The blush made the soreness under his eyes sting a little more but it was worth it at least. “I- I figured it’d be a bit of fun… so I picked up a couple of CD’s in the store back there. Didn’t look at what I got at the time though, this one’s some kind of cheesy 70’s or 80’s mix.” Jean bit his lip, still grinning then lowering his voice as if he were revealing a conspiracy. “I like cheesy eighties shit.”

Finally managing to compose himself, Marco's laughing turned into bursts of chuckling and giggling. When Jean said where the CDs had come from, he nodded a bit, taking a few more breaths to try and quell the little outbursts. "Makes sense…" But then Jean said he actually  _ liked _ this stuff and Marco dissolved into small giggles again, picturing him doing the same absurd rendition in another time, another place, another  _ life _ before all this hell. The smile on his face couldn't help but grow a bit fond at the idea of it. 

"Sports jock  _ and _ cheeseball? Who knew those could coexist in one person…" He stuck his tongue out momentarily before grinning with a twinkle in his eyes and a shrug. "But… I kind of do too. It's just… over the top and fun." Finishing up with the rabbit, he skewered it on one of the longer sticks as best as he could and propped it up at an angle. Looking around, he eventually just wound up wiping his palms on the road to get them a bit less disgustingly  _ slick _ before grabbing up the firestarter and fumbling with it a bit to get it to spark and the wood to catch. But he managed it, moving to stand and wipe his hands off a bit better and more thoroughly on the grass at the side of the road. For the moment, he shoved the firestarter—after wiping it off in the grass too—into his pocket until he got around to putting it in his backpack. He sat down in the back of the car with a slump and a sigh, the music somehow putting him at ease while still being distinctly abnormal as well. "So… that'll take… a little while." 

“Hey hey, I’ll have you know there’s a bit of weeb and much more interesting things in here too!” Jean replied to Marco sticking his tongue out by sticking out his own, surprised by how unsquicked he was by watching Marco working on the rabbit. “It…cheers me up when I’m feeling shit, always has.” Jean shrugged a shoulder and watched as Marco finished and tried wiping his hands off. Well… that was ok but it would probably still feel gross. When Marco sat next to where he was standing with a sigh Jean smiled and then crawled into the trunk to his backpack, pulling out a bottle of the water. 

Marco couldn't help wondering what other kinds of 'interesting things' there were to his unexpected travelling companion. He nodded at the idea of it cheering Jean up. It made sense; it was pretty cheerful stuff. When Jean crawled into the trunk, Marco tilted his head curiously, wondering what he was up to. 

“Hold your hands out over the floor outside.” Jean said, but didn’t wait for Marco to comply fully before he flopped onto his stomach, leaning up on his elbows with his feet resting against the back of the front seats as he uncapped the water and pulled one of Marco’s hands out. Jean tipped the water sparingly onto it with one hand and used the other to rub the bits of blood from between Marco’s fingers and around the other boys nails. “Before you tell me off for using the water for this, you could get sick if it sticks around on your hands for long enough and depending on how upset your stomach got you could die in this sort of environment so I’m not sorry.” So what, he was overcautious. Jean started to hum along to the next song as he occupied himself with his self-given task.

It wasn't until Jean flopped down next to him on his stomach that Marco managed to stammer out his confusion. "Wh— I…?" Anything remotely resembling eloquence was gone just from the fact that Jean was  _ holding his hand _ and rubbing it clean and Jean's fingers were warm and surprisingly gentle as he worked off the blood and he was  _ humming _ and it actually was surprisingly… nice. He was sure his face was pink and he looked away, biting his lip as he focused on keeping his breathing even. "I… I could do that myself… But… thanks…" Marco finally managed to form coherent words, still not daring to look directly at the other teen. 

Jean was too focused on what he was doing to notice the blush or the way Marco looked away in embarrassment. Shrugging and finishing with one hand he grabbed the other and began to clean the drying blood off of Marco’s fingers. “Eh, think of it as thanks for preparing that shit. I know  _ how _ to do it but today I…” Jean went quiet for a moment, putting the bottle down and using both hands to rub the water on Marco’s one. “I dun think I coulda done it today. Let alone actually caught the thing holy shit.” Jean grinned.

If Marco thought Jean rubbing his hand with  _ one _ of his hands was bad,  _ two _ was definitely worse. It was totally innocent, he reminded himself. No gay subtext whatsoever. Just Jean helping him to get his hands clean. By running his own hands over his. While holding Marco's hand in his. How was there anything  _ but _ gay subtext there. No. No gay subtext. Entirely no-homo hand touching for a purely practical purpose. Two guys could do that and not have it  _ mean _ anything  _ gay _ . Right? Right. 

Marco distracted himself from his internal warring with himself by focusing on Jean's words. He forced a slightly awkward laugh. "It's okay, I'm kind of used to it at this point. And it's mostly just following all that 'breathe out and aim' stuff. And practice. Lots of practice." Marco gave a small shrug. 

“All done.” Jean said and then grabbed the bottle, rolling onto his back and making sure not to spill it as he propped himself up on an elbow and took a few gulps of what was left. Jean held it out to Marco after—he’d shared drinks before at track meets so it wasn’t anything unusual to offer. “Want some?”

Marco almost lamented the loss of the warmth of Jean's hands against his, idly opening and closing his hand a few times as if memorizing the feeling of the other's hands. With the way Jean was angled, Marco couldn't help but watch his throat move as he swallowed, unconsciously licking his lips slightly. 

But then the bottle was being held out to him and Marco balked, staring at it as if it were some strange alien creature for a moment. It was stupid and cheesy and wrong but literally  _ all _ Marco could think about was that Jean's  _ lips _ had been around the top of that bottle a moment before. It was the  _ only _ thing his brain seemed capable of focusing on. And Jean was offering it to Marco. And there was absolutely  _ nothing _ suggestive about that at all. And yet the freckled teen still stared warily at the bottle for a moment as if it were some sort of test, brain hosting a mutiny against him as it chanted on and on about it being an indirect kiss. But  _ no _ , it was just practical and Jean was just being  _ nice _ and Marco forced himself to reach out and take it. "Th-thanks…" He hoped the stammer in his voice wasn't too obvious as he took a few sips before setting the bottle down between them. He paused for a moment. "We should… grab a deck of cards or something at the next store we find… Something to do if we're stopped for a bit like this…" Something other than sitting in a silence that he had no idea how to fill and he really hoped Jean did. 

The way Marco stared at the offered bottle had Jean’s grin faltering for a moment before he forced it to stay in place. Oblivious to the thoughts running through the other boys head all Jean could assume is that Marco looked so conflicted and almost pained by the offer because Jean had been infected. Despite being better now and Marco’s notes no one  _ really _ knew what the long term effects were or if it could alter someone’s system and end up there forever like with HIV or something. Jean didn’t know much about that to be honest but he knew it was sort of unlikely to pass via sharing a drink, still this  _ wasn’t _ HIV and it killed those who got it generally very aggressively or ravaged their bodies to kill them slowly.

Jean’s arm dropped a little and he was about to retract the offer and laugh it off when Marco said his thanks—awkwardly—and took it from him. Jean felt sort of guilty and now his thought process made him feel a little paranoid too. What if being with him really did make Marco sick somehow? The music in the background was playing ‘I Will Survive’ and Jean snorted at it and tried to keep the good mood that had been going because he didn’t want to slump again. “Huh sure but I’ve only ever played strip poker so you’re gonna have to teach me how to play something else.” Jean flopped back flat and let his head hang off the back of the car, watching the fire upside down as he laced his hands together across his belly.

Marco gawked at Jean  _ again _ when he mentioned strip poker. "I… how… I…" Marco was trying very very hard to not think about Jean stripping piece by piece. Trying and failing. He  _ really _ needed to get himself together. He forced a laugh, shaking his head. "Bet you probably won too. But yeah, I can teach you other stuff. Y'know, the  _ normal _ stuff. War or slapjack or whatever." 

When Marco laughed and said he’d probably won Jean gave a laugh of his own and shook his head, the feeling of blood rushing to it was odd but he was weird and sort of liked it. “Nah I lost. Spectacularly to be honest. Still, I got to see some half and mostly naked bodies so it weren’t all bad. Good party that.” Jean sighed at the memory. 

"O-oh…" Marco gave a laugh, colour rising to his cheeks again as his brain again insisted on focusing on the idea of Jean with a lack of clothes. Still, something in his brain snagged on how the other teen's words weren't 'mostly naked chicks' but instead the  _ much _ more vague 'mostly naked  _ bodies _ '. And he  _ really _ wondered if he was just reading  _ way _ too much into it. He had to be, he decided. 

Trying to keep himself from staring at Jean while their food cooked, Marco let himself lean back a bit on his hands, stretching his back before focusing on the horizon instead. He let out a long breath. "So… What uh… what did you do for fun? Y'know… before all this?" It was a pathetic attempt at smalltalk by his standards and a bit depressing to think about but he didn't really know what else to talk about. Their world now was so entirely different than it had been only a few months before. And they hadn't really settled into any 'new' normal unless 'just try to not die' counted. But that wasn't exactly  _ fun _ . 

Jean missed the way things used to be, feeling his stomach twist in both happy and sad nostalgia when Marco asked him what he used to do for fun. “Mnn… Just really normal shit y’know? Playstation, Tumblr… you already know I admitted to liking anime so i watched a ton of that… sex, running when I wanted some quiet that sorta thing mostly.” Jean shrugged his shoulders and the motion pushed him further off the end of the car, he flailed a bit and grabbed the floor of the trunk before sitting up in one swift motion and swaying because of headrush. “Woah ok… that felt weird.” Jean pressed his hands to his eyes for a moment whilst his head stopped spinning and then he turned around to match the way Marco was sitting. “What about you then? I mean what you did for fun, not are you feeling weird… Although if you’re feeling weird let me know cuz I’d sorta wanna be prepared if you got a cold or something… do we even have any meds with us—wait I’m going off topic sorry…” Jean blurted the words out almost clumsily, cheeks turning slightly pink.

Marco nodded along—trying not blush again when Jean casually included sex on his list—before panicking briefly when it looked like the other boy was about to fall, jolting. But then Jean managed to pull himself up and he relaxed quickly. "Please try to not fall and smash your head open…" He gnawed at his lip around a smile when Jean started  _ rambling _ . That was… kind of cute, actually. "You're… surprisingly bad at the whole social thing… And apparently a closet dork. But me? Uhm, yeah, mostly Tumblr and anime I guess… Being dragged camping and stuff when it was warm. Hanging out with people…" People who were all probably  _ dead _ … Marco shook his head slightly, pushing the thought away. "Thing I miss most is probably my guitar though…" He brought a hand up to stare at it for a moment, noting how the callouses on his fingers were fading. Flopping his weight back on both his hands, he sighed. "And for the record, I feel fine… But picking up some stuff the next time we can just to have can't hurt." 

“M’not gonna fall, besides it’s like what… a foot n a half? I got a hard skull it’s fine.” Jean crossed his legs and picked at the inside seam on his jeans. They’d need to be washed soon, or they needed to find new clothes. He felt absolutely disgusting and grimy all over. Marco started talking then though, calling Jean a closet dork that made him grin and then listing off the things he liked to do. The fact they actually had some things in common struck Jean as odd considering their social circles, but it was also sort of nice. 

“I’m  _ great _ at socialising ok, so excuse you. I’m just not used to like… the whole one on one stuff there were always loads of people around. Even Hitch, the only time we were really alone together was when we were fuckin’ and not much talking gets done then right? Well I mean… n-not like… Normal talkin’.” Marco did  _ not _ need to know anything about Jean’s bedroom habits that was  _ not _ cool. Jean cleared his throat and changed his topic. “Guitar huh? I’d kinda like to hear sometime, if we ever get near a guitar that is.” Jean chuckled and stared into the flames of the fire for a moment, humming in agreement at getting meds. “Yeah, I been getting headaches so actually it’d be really fucking awesome to have something when I get one… I know I’m a wuss and should just like suck it up but I’m kinda tired now.” Jean’s smile was a bit more wary this time. 

Marco gave a small snort at the idea of Jean having a hard skull. That sounded about right. The freckled teen's eyes bulged slightly when Jean had to start going on about sex and 'normal' talking and a  _ contrast _ to normal talking which could really only mean  _ one _ thing. And Marco was  _ very _ glad when Jean abruptly changed topics because the last thing he needed to think about was  _ that _ . 

But the topic instead became Jean wanting to hear him play and Marco felt a rush of self-consciousness. "I… uhm… I mean, yeah, sure…" He agreed a bit hesitantly, entirely not expecting that to ever happen. No, the odds of that were hilariously low so there wasn't any harm in agreeing. Their priorities were food and surviving and it wasn't like they were just going to happen across a music store and decide to duck in. 

Marco frowned at the information about Jean getting headaches, tilting his head curiously and unconsciously leaning a bit closer for a moment as he looked Jean over. "Headaches? Have you been getting them since you started getting better? Or just since you ran out of food? Cause that could just be nutritional deprivation or it could be something to do with the effects of the virus…" Realizing he'd gotten a bit too close, he hopped out of the car abruptly, moving to go check on their food. 

Jean smiled when Marco reluctantly agreed, it was highly unlikely that it would ever happen but the thought of something normal like that happening was at least something to sort of look forward to. When Marco frowned in response to Jean admitting he got headaches and leaned closer the white haired teen couldn’t help feeling his breath hitch just a little because he was  _ close _ and Jean was sort of… not so completely straight and Marco was sort of pretty… ok he was hot. Especially that close. 

Jean was glad when Marco hopped out of the car to go and check on the food, taking a deep breath and licking his lips nervously after clearing his throat. “Since I got sick, like I mean it was constant pain when I was really sick for sure but like I get them off and on a lot since. Some days my eyes sort of wont really focus but that’s not that often so I’m ok to like have your back I promise.” Jean shifted closer to the edge of the trunk and uncrossed his legs, dropping them to rest his feet against the floor instead. “Got a bit of one now to be honest but I’m hungry so maybe that’s why.” He shrugged.

"Hrmh…" Oblivious to the hitch in Jean's breath, Marco gave a pensive sort of hum as he carefully turned their food so it could keep cooking for another few minutes. "That's… concerning. You shouldn't be getting headaches like that… I don't remember reading or seeing anything about that…" He gnawed at his lip for a moment. "Next store we find, grab some vitamins? Because maybe you're just imbalanced from like… bleeding everywhere when you were sick. Can't hurt anyway, right?" 

Satisfied that the rabbit was cooked enough to be safe, Marco pulled his makeshift skewer off the fire. Standing, he debated for a moment longer before deciding the fire could stay until they'd finished eating. It did give a bit of comfortable warmth and something to look at other than their deserted surroundings. So he left it lit as he moved back to perch himself in the trunk of the car cross-legged. "Uh… it's a bit hot so be careful but bon appétit I guess?" He wagged it between them slightly to cool it down somewhat before ripping off a chunk, deciding to let it cool more before putting it against his tongue. They didn't exactly have  _ utensils _ . Briefly, Marco wondered if it was too entirely a waste of space and effort to try to find a box of plastic forks at least but that was probably just pointless. 

“Y-yeah but… how long before everything crapped out? Like really I don’t remember seeing anything about Survivors on the tv when they were reporting about China and shit and then I got sick so I don’t really know but… truth is there wasn’t really much time for experiments or whatever they do on Survivors was there? Might be normal…” Jean didn’t want to think that he could be slowly dying still or something. “Still, vitamins yeah. Ok. Never thought I’d be bugged about supplements  _ after _ the apocalypse as well as before it.” Jean chuckled. 

Marco shrugged slightly at the question. "I guess… When they first started noticing Survivors though, there was a burst for a little bit where it was like 'oh our salvation, maybe we can use them to find a cure'… Russia was really into looking into that. They're the ones who said Survivors weren't infectious… Then they had another big outbreak and their news cut out. So there was  _ some _ news about it for a while…?" Still, Jean had a point. They didn't really  _ know _ that much about what was going on biologically for Survivors… He wondered idly if Jean would be  _ too _ entirely offended if Marco started taking notes on him. But that would… probably be interpreted to be weird so he stayed quiet. 

“Hmm, I think I missed that. To be honest your notes are the most I’ve seen, I learned a lot from em so thanks.” He sighed as he watched Marco get the rabbit away from the fire. It looked better than anything he’d seen in a really long time and Jean would have professed his undying love to Marco for feeding him actual, fresh  _ meat _ but they weren’t really close enough friends for that sort of joking yet. “Thanks, this looks really good. You’re amazing Marco.” He settled for instead, because right now Marco was a sort of god in his eyes for delivering  _ food _ . Jean waited for a little longer than Marco had before pulling off a chunk of meat from the hind leg and taking a bite, groaning and eating slowly to savour it for as long as he could.

When Jean had to go and call him 'amazing', Marco found himself blushing again. He looked away with a snort. "Hardly. I just have good aim." Still, a smile lingered on his lips despite himself as he took his first bite of the meat. Compared to the canned and pre-packaged and dried things he'd been existing on for  _ months _ , it was fantastic and Marco couldn't help a small almost-moan. Sure it was lacking in  _ spices _ or anything but it was moist and fresh and  _ real _ . "I think my tongue just had a fucking orgasm." He realized quickly but not quick enough to stop himself that he'd actually said that  _ out loud _ and wheezed, looking away. "I mean… Sorry, that was… yeah. I just… real food, y'know?" 

Jean carried on eating slowly, sucking on the meat when he got a big bit in his mouth to make the most of the fresh flavour. When Marco mentioned he was hardly amazing and just had good aim Jean shook his head a little. “Good brain too.” He was enjoying the smile on Marco’s face immensely. Then Marco went and swore and talked about his mouth having an orgasm and Jean snorted and half choked on his food before swallowing his mouthful and laughing.

“O-oh god don’t apologise that was so fucking funny.” Jean wiped at his mouth with the back of a hand. “It’s just not something I’d expect you to say. Then again I dunno you all that great obviously. But yeah, don’t apologise man I’m pretty sure I jizzed a bit at first taste too.” Jean stuck his tongue out and then went back to eating. By the time the rabbit was picked clean the sky was darkening and the fire had burned down to bright orange embers. Jean watched them, mesmerized by the way the colour throbbed and ebbed as if alive between the black of the charcoal that was left behind. 

Marco was glad for the atmosphere as they ate. It was nice… Comfortable even. And reassuring in a weird way to be able to just be sitting and eating even when everything had gone to shit. And it made things seem just normal enough to give him hope that they really  _ could _ do this. Make it across the country and find some kind of new life with whoever was left who'd heard the message. 

But then their meal was done and the fire was dying and the sky was getting dark and Marco stood, moving to toss what was left of the carcass off to the side of the road. "Nice as this is… We should lock up for the night… It's getting too dark." He walked to the fire and regrettably kicked apart the embers, stomping it out as best he could without risking catching his clothes alight. It would do; it wouldn't be noticeable from any distance. That done, he moved around to the front of the car to turn off the music and lock the doors before climbing back into the back. 

“Hnn… Yeah I guess.” Jean said, disappointment in his tone. Sleeping cramped in the back of a car was less than ideal and Jean found he was often waking up with a sore back from the hardness and angle that he wasn’t used to. Still, it was better than being exposed to the elements and Ferals. He watched as Marco kicked out the embers and moved to the front of the car to sort things out there. Jean got out too and shoved the packs into the front seat as usual before Marco locked up, he stood at the side of the road a few feet away with his back to Marco to take a pee before they’d be locked in all night. 

Finished with that Jean climbed into the back too and pulled the trunk closed with a thud. “I’d kill for a fuckin proper bed right about now. Just  _ one _ night.” He sighed as he scooted back to sit with his back against the side of the car. 

Marco leaned back against the driver's seat for something less cold to lean on than the side of the car. He sighed, nodding along to Jean's words. An actual bed would be  _ really _ nice… Even though even considering something like that meant being away from their transportation. But the car was going to run out of gas sooner or later anyway and they'd either have to find more or  _ walk _ … So maybe heading into some residential areas wasn't a  _ terrible _ idea anyway. 

“I mean this is way better than being outside n stuff but still I-” Jean stopped as something hot and wet dribbled down his face and he tasted copper. “For fuck sake!” He hissed and pawed at his nose with the back of one of his hands, sniffing harshly as blood dripped from both sides of it.

Maybe they'd find a town with a water tower that wouldn't be drained. Marco let his eyes fall shut as he let out a soft but wistful noise at the idea of even an ice-cold shower. But then Jean cut himself off and cursed and Marco snapped his eyes open again in a panic. "What… What's wrong!?" He squinted slightly to see in the dim light, seeing blackish smears on Jean's shirt and face and— "Holy shit are you  _ bleeding!? _ " Marco scrambled over the seat to find the light he'd gotten earlier that day in his bag, pulling it out and dropping back to his ass before fumbling to flip it on between them quickly. That looked like a  _ lot _ more blood than a nosebleed  _ should _ be. Not that someone should be getting a nosebleed out of nowhere  _ anyway _ but still. 

At Marco’s sudden panic Jean felt some guilt at startling the other boy so much. “N-no it’s ok- I mean yes I am but- Marco honestly I’m ok.” Jean said, licking the blood off his lips in a futile effort to talk without it dripping into his mouth, he scrunched his nose and swallowed it even though he knew from experience that swallowing too much of it made him feel  _ really _ sick. When Marco fumbled the light on Jean squinted at the suddenness of it and lifted the hand he’d been shoving at his nose up to shield his eyes for a moment because it made his headache slightly worse.

“I just…ugh fucking gross.” Jean wanted to spit but that was gross inside the car so he settled for awkwardly yanking off his shirt and balling it up, pressing it against his nose as he gagged on the blood in his throat. It would stop eventually anyway, just like it always had and then he’d be fine. Tired, and probably feeling sick but fine none the less.

Marco stilled in his panic momentarily and frowned at how entirely  _ casual _ Jean was being about the fact that his nose was gushing blood. "This… happens to you a lot doesn't it… How is that  _ okay? _ You're  _ bleeding _ . You shouldn't be  _ bleeding _ ." Then Jean was yanking off his shirt and Marco found himself only briefly distracted by the sudden reveal of such a large amount of skin. But he couldn't focus on that, wouldn't  _ let _ himself focus on that. The more important and pertinent thing at the moment was Jean's face and the blood coming from his nose and  _ nothing _ else. 

"I uh…" Marco forced himself to not gawk, pushing himself into triage mode instead. But he just wound up flailing a bit. Normally he'd just take over the situation and do what needed to be done but this was Jean and he didn't know if he could just  _ touch  _ him like that because their boundaries were weird. He scrambled over the seat again for the meager camping first aid kit he was sure was still stashed in the top of his backpack. Finding it, he sat back down a moment later with a small white plastic packet, bending and squeezing it. "Okay, first off l-lay down. That should help a bit. And get pressure on it. Pinch the bridge of your nose or something. And then put this on your face. Don't just sit there  _ bleeding _ on everything like it's nothing." 

Jean kept the shirt pressed to his face and watched as Marco scrambled for his pack again. He watched the other boy preparing the ice pack and then would have snorted at Marco telling him to do things—he wasn’t great at being  _ told _ what to do—but obviously blood in the nose and mouth sort of stopped that happening. “W-where the hell am I supposed to lie down? I’ll choke on blood!” Jean spoke, muffled against the shirt and spitting into it too because he really hated the taste of blood and there was no way he was going to puke up the rabbit Marco had made them for dinner.

Still, Jean pinched the bridge of his nose and looked around the car before deciding the best course of action was to lie on his front, and the best way to do that and not suffocate was by using Marco’s legs as a sort of pillow. Jean took the ice pack and then used the hand holding it to push Marco’s legs flat. “D-don’t freak out ok I just… this is the best position so I dun choke and I can’t like… press my face against the floor n shit.” Muffled again, Jean kept the shirt against his nose and pressed the ice pack to it before lying down with his forehead against one of Marco’s thighs and his chin against the other, just above Marco’s knees.

It was an awkward position for keeping an ice pack against his face and pinching his nose already, but the fact that he literally had his face between Marco’s legs had Jean happy to be mostly lying on his front. Sure his body was bent and twisted a bit oddly but he’d fallen asleep in worse positions when he’d been at a party so it wasn’t too bad and he was fucking  _ tired _ . He always was when he got the headaches with the nosebleeds like this.

"I— wh— y—" Marco stammered a bit when Jean suddenly pushed his legs down. And blatantly squawked when Jean was suddenly  _ lying in his lap _ . But what the other boy was saying  _ did _ make sense and it  _ was _ probably the best position for that. But still Marco  _ really _ couldn't be comfortable with the fact that Jean's face was between his legs and far too close to his dick. 

And then on top of that there was the fact that Jean was half naked. Which Marco was becoming increasingly aware of. But this was just practical. It was only because Jean's face was literally pouring out blood. That was all. And as soon as it stopped, Jean could go away and they could just… not talk about this. Right. "Y-yeah… no problem…" He shifted himself a little bit. "Is uh… there anything I can do to help? Y-you must be cold, right? I could hold that for you so you can grab the blanket? …Do these usually last long?" 

Jean was thankful that Marco was freaking out less than he thought he would. It wasn’t exactly normal for a guy to put his head between another guy's legs like this—unless they were like… about to suck a dick. Which Jean wasn’t… not that’d he’d complain and oh god his head was really hurting. When Marco offered to hold the ice pack for him, Jean nodded and fumbled for Marco’s hand, helping him find the right place to hold as his now freed hand moved around to find the blanket. 

When his fingers came into contact with it, Jean yanked it over and clumsily tried to throw it over himself, failing spectacularly. He shoved his hand back down to hold the ice pack. “T-thanks. Could you uh… I mean I dun want you to be cold either so i dun mind if you like shove it over my head as well but could you cover me up?” Jean ignored the tired slur to his words. “And usually they stop in like fifteen twenty minutes. I had a couple that lasted well over an hour though.  _ Those _ ones scared me there was a lotta blood and I think I blacked out for a while after them too.” Jean chewed his lips for a moment. “This should stop quicker this way though so I’m sure it’s ok…” He wasn’t sure.

Marco struggled to keep himself focused on the idea that this was entirely a medical situation for practical purposes when Jean grabbed at his hand. He carefully kept the ice pack against Jean's face as the other teen grabbed for the blanket. Or more accurately grabbed for the blanket and failed entirely at getting it reasonably on himself. Marco let out a small sigh before frowning at the slur in Jean's tone. His face pinked up momentarily at the idea of Jean's head not only being in his lap but being in his lap under a blanket because that  _ certainly _ didn't make it monumentally more suggestive. 

But Marco was distracted from it easily by Jean's words. "An  _ hour _ ? That's… that's not good. No wonder you're getting headaches or whatever else… You've gotta get yourself some vitamins whenever we can…" Still, he wondered  _ why _ Jean was getting these, worrying that it could be something degenerative. If Jean wound up just keeling over on him… Marco refused to let himself think about it, focusing instead on getting the blanket straightened out, covering Jean and his own legs as best as he could but decidedly  _ not _ taking up the offer of shoving the other's  _ head _ under them. No, even if he  _ was _ a bit chilly, this was still preferable. Although he did wish he had something to put in his lap because he really didn't need Jean waking up to a tent in Marco's pants if the freckled teen dozed off before dislodging him. As if on cue, Marco yawned. 

“Mhn… I… got pretty scared… those times…” Jean admitted slowly, sleepily. By then his mother was already a Feral, not long after she was dead and Jean was alone through them. Something about having Marco around for it was both odd and reassuring, though. “I’ll get some… like… prescription iron… shit…” Jean said, relaxing a bit more and shifting so his back wasn’t  _ quite _ so oddly angled. The warmth of the blanket on him was an added bonus and Jean  _ almost  _ snuggled against the other boy’s legs like a pillow. Almost. But not.

“Sorry bout this… I’ll be ok in… the morning tho…” Jean said quietly before lapsing into silence. The sound of the breeze outside the car was barely audible but the tap of rain on the roof was loud and clear and soon a steady fall was drumming against the car and lulling Jean to sleep. He’d always found the sound of rain relaxing, especially in cars for some reason even though he  _ hated _ being outside in it.

Marco gave a sad smile when Jean admitted that it had scared him. A slight sigh escaped him. No shit. Marco was sure if  _ he'd _ had to go through that, he'd have lost it completely. Hell, if he'd had to go through any of the illness Jean had, he didn't think he would have been able to take it. He knew well enough the things that Jean would have had to endure while he was sick. Not to mention the vague mentions that his mother had turned into one of the Ferals. And whatever had resulted from that, which Marco still didn't really know. 

But then Jean was snuggling against Marco's legs and the freckled teen was glad Jean seemed hopefully too sleepy and out of it to notice the way his breath hitched. He forced himself to speak regardless. "S'no problem… Just relax…" Soon enough it was obvious Jean had fallen asleep as his breathing levelled out a bit. Marco hesitated before moving to make sure the ice pack stayed in place. He couldn't help watching Jean sleep for a while, heart still beating too fast to let him fall asleep. Hesitating, he reached his free hand out, running his fingers gently through the other teen's hair and surprised by the softness of it. He knew he should stop, but in a strange way the contact and the warmth against his lap and the rain around them was… relaxing. And so—after pausing to flip off the little light and preserve the battery—he let himself indulge in the feeling until he fell asleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward mornings are awkward. Marco has an unusual skill set. But an abandoned farmhouse offers a welcome slice of normalcy. And maybe even the comfort and freedom to let their guards down just a little.

Jean fell asleep relatively quickly despite the cold seeping into the middle of his face from the ice pack and the headache throbbing behind his temples. He was just too tired and full of the best food he’d had in a long time and the rain was relaxing and Marco’s lap was  _ warm _ . Jean slept soundly that night, though throughout the course of it he ended up moving and twisting and, by the time the sun was peeking out from the horizon, the ice pack had fallen and was no longer cold. Jean had his arms wrapped around Marco’s hips almost possessively and his face pressed close to the other boys crotch unknowingly, nuzzling him in his sleep with a sigh.

Marco slept soundly, the rain acting as a static backdrop and keeping him from waking up even through Jean's movements. It was, in all likelihood, the most relaxed and complete night of sleep he'd had in a long time. He was relatively safe, he had a satisfying meal in his stomach, and he had another actual human being's presence against him. He woke with a small, groggy groan as the sky got brighter around them. 

The first thing Marco noticed was how sore and stiff his back was from sleeping propped up against the back side of the seat. That was a  _ terrible _ idea. The second thing he noticed was Jean's arms wrapped around him. That was… actually kind of comfortable. And the  _ third _ thing he noticed was where Jean's  _ face _ had wound up. Which was entirely and blatantly pressed against Marco's groin. More specifically against his dick. His dick which was—in no small part thanks to Jean's  _ nuzzling _ —uncomfortably  _ erect _ . And Jean was still nuzzling. Nuzzling Marco's boner. And Marco couldn't help but let out a noise somewhere between a squeak, a moan, and a yelp that he couldn't have replicated if he  _ tried _ . 

Jean was utterly oblivious to the world around him until a really odd noise startled him and he jolted violently with a half yelp of his own. He went to sit up only to have his arms sort of trapped between Marco’s back and the seat behind it so instead he sort of ended up face planting Marco’s crotch and  _ oh god _ he had a raging boner. Jean’s breath hitched and his face felt uncomfortably hot as he untangled his hands more slowly and pushed himself up and away from Marco. “I- fuck I did it again I’m so sorry shit I swear to god I don’t usually molest people in their goddamn sleep!” Jean covered his face with his hands even as he noticed the blood all over Marco’s thighs.

In an effort to make the situation less mortifying for himself—cowardly of course—Jean blurted. “L-looks you you had a period there bro… s-should get you some pads for that.” Then he laughed and it was strained and Jean felt awful. He cleared his throat and turned to face the side of the car. “Uh… if you need to… I mean… go take care of that uh… you should go right ahead.” Jean licked his lips and tried  _ not _ to think about it and was half glad his dick seemed mostly fucking dead. “I mean uh… I did so… it’s not weird right? T-totally normal for a dude.”

Marco  _ really _ wished he'd been able to stifle the noise that escaped him when it woke Jean up as well. Because Jean yelping and then winding up with his face shoving  _ more _ into Marco's crotch really didn't help the situation any and if anything his dick was just even  _ harder _ after that. And then the other teen was stammering and apologizing. And then hassling him about the blood on his lap—which Marco only really registered when he looked down again and grimaced. 

"It's  _ your _ blood, you ass." Marco blurted back the response before he had a chance to think better of it. "But… I… uh… don't worry about it. …Again." But then Jean was suggesting that he go take care of it. And Marco did his best to stifle a small whining noise. On the one hand… he was  _ really _ aroused. On the other hand… he already knew exactly what—or rather who—he'd wind up thinking about. But even with his lap covered in blood and his cheeks a humiliating shade of pink his boner didn't seem to want to budge and it would give Marco a chance to try to collect some semblance of his composure alone and so he cleared his throat before scrambling to get out of the car with a nod. "Y-yeah… Right… t-totally… Not weird…" Marco wound up half-speeding and half-waddling off to the treeline with the uncomfortable way his cock was constrained by his pants.

Jean stuck his tongue out at Marco as he turned slightly so the other boy could see it as he was called an ass. “Least an ass isn’t where the bloods from, sounds painful.” He quipped as Marco got out of the car and went to… well, jerk off. Oh god. Jean’s mind went to really filthy places and when he couldn’t see Marco any more he looked down at his unresponsive lap and pressed a hand between his legs. Jean squeezed lightly and rubbed there a bit, but ultimately his body didn’t respond much more than a lazy twitch and Jean groaned in frustration. 

Before all of this, Jean was the kind of guy who jerked off multiple times a day and had a very active sex life with Hitch. He just couldn’t help it, it felt good and he got aroused often enough that  _ not _ doing it would be fucking annoying as hell. But now? Now Jean’s mind was still in the same place it had been before but his body didn’t want to play ball and whilst there was no-one to fuck—Marco seemed relatively off limits and he really… actually liked the guy—he could have at least jerked off a few times. 

Safely out of view of the car, it took Marco shamefully little time to get his pants undone and get his dick out. Soon he was stroking himself while leaning back against a tree. And he didn't even bother trying to think about anything other than Jean. The images of the white-haired teen's face pressed against his groin were too fresh and  _ vivid _ in his head. He choked down a broken moan a few short minutes later as he came. Marco let himself catch his breath for another minute longer before returning to the car, reminding himself that that was a one-time thing and he was  _ not _ allowed to get  _ any _ more boners over the straight—although he'd questioned that at least once already, but that was  _ not _ the point—boy who was his travelling companion and  _ nothing _ else. He adamantly did not make eye contact with Jean, even as he spoke and internally cursed the tremor in his voice. "S-so we should uh… t-try to find some clean clothes today…" 

By the time Marco came back—which admittedly wasn’t long after he’d left but Jean wouldn’t comment on it—Jean was sitting on the edge of the trunk with his head in his hands. “Yeah, sounds good. I feel fucking gross can we try to find somewhere to wash, even if it’s a cold sponge bath with girly shower gel or something I don’t even care I feel uuguh.” Jean motioned to himself, still half naked, with a grimace.

Marco couldn't help a wistful groan at the mention of getting clean. "Oh god a wash sounds so good right now." He was glad he had the presence of mind to at least stifle the retorting admission his brain issued up that Marco actually kind of  _ liked _ 'girly' shower gel—it was better than 'essence of lumberjack' or whatever other macho shit was usually on the shelf and Marco would pick cool cucumber or strawberry dream over that crap any day. But at this point, he was pretty sure he'd even take a reasonably active stream to wash off in. 

Climbing up through the car and into the driver's seat, Marco shoved his backpack back into the back—making sure the firestarter and his multitool wound up back in it—and unlocked the doors. "Come on then, let's get going. Oh, grab the map too; I have  _ no _ idea where we're going to find the next town where we could have a chance at something like that." He had to admit he was apprehensive about the idea of approaching actual houses. They'd have to clear them and there was probably a higher likelihood of coming across Ferals there than in stores. But necessity was something that couldn't be denied. He thought for a moment. "So we need a town with a water tower or… If we can find a farmhouse or something, they're probably on well water." 

Jean got up and shoved his pack into the rear of the car too, shivering in the early morning chill and gratefully grabbing his hoodie from the footwell of the passenger side. He shrugged it on and the fleece felt heavenly against his cold skin as he zipped it up and pulled his beanie on. After that he went back around and got the map before slamming the trunk and climbing into his seat. “You know what? A farmhouse sounds great. Just like not surrounded by buildings where people could be hiding.” Jean shuddered a little, still paranoid about being killed.

He opened the map book and chewed his lip, admittedly he wasn’t very good at reading maps but if he could find where they were he could get the direction and the road and follow along as they drove. “What the hell was that town called yesterday? And this road?” Jean held the map book out to Marco with a lost expression.

Marco nodded at Jean's words, finding the shudder understandable. "Yeah, no, of course. Something without a lot of extra buildings… Less places we have to check for… unpleasant things." By the time Jean wound up opening the map, Marco had already started the car. When Jean held the map out to him looking entirely  _ lost _ , Marco groaned. "Please tell me you're not  _ that _ hopeless to not even know where you are." He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. 

"…Sorry, that was uhm… harsh. I just… I guess I just forget that not everyone learns this stuff…" Thinking for a minute, Marco gestured to the general area they should have been in with one hand. He was able to name the highway they were on at least but could only give the actual  _ name _ of the town  _ before _ the one they'd stopped at. But by guesstimating how far they'd gone after that, it took him only a few seconds to finally point out the right town. "Okay so… You know where we are now?" 

When Marco groaned and said something about being hopeless Jean felt himself getting defensive. Why the fuck would he know when he’d been trying not to freak out at every little thing or when his eyes wouldn’t focus right from a headache, or when he was exhausted and tired and it  _ wasn’t _ automatic for him to look at fucking road signs. Unlike some. But then Marco was apologizing and Jean just grit his teeth instead of retorting because Marco was his only friend in the world now and he wasn’t going to fuck that up over this.

“Yeah… not everyone learns it.” Jean finally said, hoping he didn’t sound too aggressive because he wasn’t exactly known for having a great temper. He watched as Marco gestured at the map and then estimated the town they’d visited the day before and then he nodded. “Right ok.  _ Thank you _ . Now I can follow the map or try and find somewhere it looks like they mark schools and hospitals on here but there’s a little tractor sign too so… would that be a farm you think?” Jean wasn’t sure, but the towns along the route here were relatively spaced out and about sixty or so miles along the route there was a turn off onto a lesser road and then from what Jean could see another thirty odd miles along  _ that _ road there was a little tractor sign in the middle of no-where. 

Marco gave an apologetic smile when Jean finally grit out his agreement. "Sorry…" He frowned and thought for a moment when Jean asked about the tractor sign. "I… I think so yeah. Should be, anyway." Marco nodded, putting the car into gear and getting them underway again.

"Uhm…" Marco finally spoke up after being silent for a moment. "So two things… First, what road am I looking for and second, how far away?" He glanced at the radio, briefly debating putting it on again just for something to distract himself. If he was perfectly honest, he was still feeling awkward about waking up to Jean nuzzling his lap. But he'd been so warm and comfortable and he  _ nuzzled _ him. Marco did his best to shut up his much-too-gay internal thoughts, focusing on the road ahead of them. 

Jean stared at the map for a long moment after nodding. He was looking out of the window when the other boy finally spoke again and he hummed and looked at the road names. “It’s about sixty miles along this road then there’s a turn off to ‘route twenty four’ and then apparently there's a farm or whatever like thirty miles along that?” Jean chewed his lip as he focused on the map and re-read the grid distances and estimated again just to make sure. “Yeah that seems to be it.” 

He shrugged and kept the map open on his lap as he glanced at Marco driving for a moment before turning to look back out of the window. His face still felt caked with dried blood and his hoodie was warm but he was still somewhat chilled from a night under just a picnic blanket. There were drops of blood all over his jeans and his hands were still gross and blood was flaking off around his fingernails and he really  _ really _ wanted a fucking shower.

Marco almost missed the turn, zoning out slightly after so much distance of monotony. But he spotted it at the last second and turned hard. The wheels squealed slightly in protest at the abrupt turn and Marco gave an alternating series of apologies and curses that lasted a good several seconds. It definitely served to wake him up, at least. But then they were on the next road. 

The road they'd turned onto was less of a decent 'road' and more what Marco would dub a broken-down country lane, paved with asphalt that was shattered and lumpy and last redone who even knew when. It wasn't unuseable by any means but he did have to drive significantly slower and more carefully, making small swerves to avoid the bigger holes and cracks in the road. 

Jean had fallen asleep sometime along the main road, so when Marco turned abruptly Jean’s head smacked against the window and he was rudely awoken. “Fuck- shit!” He swore and griped the side of his head with a confused glare as Marco apologised and swore himself. The state of the road they’d turned onto was awful and Jean wondered why it had been let to deteriorate so much, then again it wasn’t like the government hadn’t left other roads outside of town in poor state.

They got there, eventually, and by early afternoon Marco was pulling up in front of a large old farmhouse. He wasn't too excited about the fact they'd spent the better part of the day on this detour and would spend that time again on the way back—and probably run out of gas around the time they hit the next town. But if it meant a chance of a shower and a bed, it was worth it. The only structures he could see aside from the house itself were a barn, a small grain silo, a diesel fuel tank—of no help to them unfortunately—and a large shed. All a decent distance away from the house. When nothing charged towards them immediately, Marco turned off the car. "Okay so… we should check the barn and the shed before we clear the house…" 

When they pulled up to the farmhouse Jean peered at it and felt like he was in a horror film at how fucking isolated it was. Then again he’d been living a horror movie life since the illness came about. Where the fuck had it even come from anyway? When the car was stopped properly Jean opened his door and stood with a groan, stretching his legs out. “Yeah ok. Sounds like a plan. We gonna stick together or split up?” Personally, Jean hoped they stuck together but splitting up was faster. He made sure the guns at his thighs were easily accessible before shutting his door and waiting for Marco. There was no point in bringing the bags or anything else when they weren’t going very far from the car and were just checking. In-fact it was better to leave them just in case.

Marco got out of the car and stretched, still feeling stiff and sore from having slept in such an uncomfortable position the night before. He undid the clasps on the holsters for easier, quicker drawing if the need should arise. When Jean asked if they should split up or stick together, Marco gawked at him openly. 

"Jean…" Marco's words were cautious but disbelieving. "Have you seen  _ any _ horror movie  _ ever? _ Seriously? We're sticking together. Apocalypse 101 here, right? You watch my back. I watch your back. And maybe, just maybe, we'll see whatever's coming before it rips both our throats open." He gave an uneasy laugh, having disturbed himself with the words as soon as he'd said them. "I mean… there's an entire genre of movies and games that's been prepping us for this our whole lives, right? Now come on and let's get this over with." He gestured towards the barn before heading towards it, checking to make sure Jean was following him. As they approached it, Marco drew one of the guns, keeping it lowered in front of him but clicking off the safety. 

“I don’t like horror movies… I avoided them.” He admitted as he pulled a gun from it’s holster and looked it over, better to be safe than sorry. “But yeah ok, sticking together’s good. I wholeheartedly agree.” Jean followed Marco to the barn quietly with his gun held by both hands as he clicked off the safety. He felt like a bit of a tool, almost as if they were playing pretend with the way they were crouched with their guns out because it was  _ so _ strange and new. But that’s what life was like now, and would probably be for the rest of his life… even though deep down Jean was convinced he was probably going to die pretty soon. What a depressing thought.

"…You don't like horror movies?" Marco's surprise was evidenced in his tone. He didn't know there was anyone—particularly any  _ guy _ —who didn't like horror movies. Weren't they an integral part of the whole heteronormative relationship thing? Terrified girlfriend clutching at unphased boyfriend in a dark theater? He shrugged it off. Jean was… really good at deviating from Marco's expectations. "Well I for one loved them. …Or I did. Making fun of them doing dumb things and getting themselves killed, mostly. …Not as much fun actually  _ living _ it though…" He gave a light half-hearted laugh. 

Jean swallowed and pushed his dark thoughts away as they made it to the barn and he peered inside carefully. It  _ looked _ completely empty and even unused. He’d expected a tractor or even some fucking hay but there was nothing but dust and cobwebs that he could see and he looked over to Marco before indicating that he was going to push the door open all the way. After that Jean pushed, the door creaked heinously loudly and he winced but there was no sound or sign of movement and he held his gun one handed and shoved it open the rest of the way quickly, heart pounding. Nothing. It was sort of anti climatic.

Marco tensed but nodded when Jean gestured that he was going to push the door open. He flinched at the creak and raised his weapon slightly, ignoring the tremor in his elbows. He stepped into the building slightly, looking turning left and right. But everything was still and quiet. And Marco let out a breath. "Well… thank fuck for that. Let's check the shed and then the house so we can get behind some locked doors before it gets dark." He backed out of the barn—could never be too careful—before heading across to the shed. 

Jean stayed silent and frowned at Marco’s comment about him not liking horror movies, the surprised tone made him feel defensive again but he just  _ didn’t _ like them. They made him ansty. To be honest Jean didn’t know how he’d not shat his pants yet because there had been plenty of opportunities for him to embarrass himself and squeal like a girl. “I just don’t like them they make me anxious.” He hissed on a whisper after they’d cleared the barn. “Hopefully they have a working generator here. Oh god warmth would be amazing.” Jean said and then went quiet as they checked the shed.

The door was already partway open and creaking slightly in the wind. Marco checked that Jean was with him before shoving the door open with a disproportionate bang. A startled bird squawked and flew out and Marco yelped, stumbling back a few steps. But once it had flown off, all was silent again. Marco let himself collapse against the shed, heart racing as he clutched at his chest. "Well… I feel ridiculous…" He huffed at himself before gesturing at the main house, pushing off from the building behind him. "Let's go…" 

When Marco yelped Jean yelped too and then he  _ laughed _ because he felt less of a fool for reacting that way when the other boy had too. “F-fuck I think a bit of pee came out that scared me.” He joked, still laughing as he nodded and they headed off to the main house. He forced himself under control and took a deep breath as they neared, peeking through the windows and seeing nothing. He tried the door, locked. He frowned and looked over to Marco as he whispered. “S’locked… do you think we should go round back or try to pick this I dunno what to do?”

Marco felt a bit better for Jean having yelped just as much as he did and he gave a breathless laugh at the other's words. "That… I'm gonna need some anxiety pills or something by the time we finally get there. Birds need to nest in  _ trees _ not  _ sheds _ … Jeez…" Marco's eyes scanned the property around them as Jean looked through the windows. He didn't see any cars and could only guess whoever had lived there had been out or gotten stuck in some town when the disease got to them. Which Marco wasn't going to complain about. Not having to deal with a corpse was definitely an up-side. 

But Marco couldn't relax just yet, not before they'd searched the house and were  _ sure _ . When Jean tried the door unsuccessfully, Marco shrugged. "Not surprised…" He gnawed at his lip for a moment before remembering something and heading back for the car, holstering the gun. "Hang on a second." Crawling halfway into the car and digging around in his bag for a while, he finally found the little silver lock pick set that he'd gotten years ago—and almost hadn't even  _ brought _ —before closing up the car and half-jogging back to the door of the house. "I… honestly haven't tried this in a while but… It's better than breaking a window or something…" Kneeling down, Marco fumbled unsuccessfully with the lock for a long few minutes before it finally clicked and he let out a small whooping cheer.  

Jean tried not to be  _ too _ distracted by the way Marco gnawed on his lip. The other boy heading back to the car helped Jean focus again and he peered into the house once more, still no signs of life or even anything out of place. When Marco came back with a lock picking kit Jean stared at him for a long moment, watching him fumbling with the lock. “Ok wow. Are you sure you’re not some kind of deceptively cu- uh… Like… innocent looking criminal because you jacked a car real easy and now you just whip out a lock picking set and-”  The door clicked open. “Broke into a fucking house.” He finished almost awed.

Marco froze for a moment, blinking in disbelief when Jean cut himself off and stammered as he changed what he was saying. Marco  _ had _ to be losing it because it really sounded like the other boy almost wanted to call him  _ cute _ . But what other words started with that sound that would make sense in that context? He couldn't think of any. Marco was sure daring to hope was going to distract him and get him killed one of these days. 

Still, he couldn't help the slight proud and mischievous smirk that crept onto his face at the idea. And grew even wider at how  _ impressed _ Jean seemed with him. "I… I get bored…" That vague statement was the extent of his answer. He'd never done anything bad enough to get  _ arrested _ anyway—although he'd had to get a bit creative with his storytelling a few times. But he just… legitimately got bored. …And maybe liked the adrenaline kick more than he should have. But  _ fuck _ it came in handy during the apocalypse so that made it a good thing, right? Sure. Sort of. 

“You got  _ bored _ ?” Jean repeated in disbelief. And people thought he was bad for getting drunk when he was seventeen yet no one looked twice and thought  _ Marco _ would get into trouble because he wasn’t a ‘brainless jock’. Jean rubbed the back of his neck and pouted slightly at how unfair that seemed but said nothing of it, at the very least Marco’s past ‘boredom’ seemed to have gotten them into a car  _ and _ a house so he wasn’t going to complain. 

Marco shrugged and tried the knob. The door swung open with a low, echoing creaking sound that sent a shiver up the freckled teen's spine as he stood, shoving the kit in his pocket in favour of freeing up his hands to grip the gun tightly again. "Ugh… why does it have to  _ creak _ that's so creepy…"

The creak of the door made Jean tense his hand around the gun in it and he stepped inside first even though his heart was in his throat and he felt sick with anxiety. “S-says the one who  _ liked _ horror movies…” Jean whispered, looking around the entryway and seeing nothing he sidestepped carefully into what turned out to be the dining room and ducked to look under the table. There was nothing there though. “I don’t think… anyone’s been home in a long time…” He whispered, watching some cobwebs trailing off of one of the chairs with the breeze from the door.

Marco snorted at the jibe about having said he liked horror movies. "I like them, I don't like  _ starring _ in them…" Marco nodded along when Jean said it didn't seem anyone had been there. "It doesn't seem like it… Looks clear in here, at least." 

Marco moved to the next doorway quickly, clearing the kitchen before stepping around the corner and checking under the small kitchen table. All clear. Still feeling the adrenaline coursing through his system, Marco made an absurd, irrational, and probably flat out  _ stupid _ decision. He peered back around the corner at Jean, cocking his head at an angle with the most appealing smile in his arsenal, just on the border between innocent and flirty. "But Jean…? Who ever said I'm  _ not _ a deceptively  _ cute _ criminal?" He promptly turned on his heel and stalked through the kitchen, heart racing from an entirely  _ different _ sort of terror than the idea of Ferals lurking around the corner. He tried to focus on clearing the bathroom and then the living room before moving to the bottom of the stairs to wait for Jean. 

When Marco said he didn’t like ‘starring’ in horror movies, Jean snorted his agreement. Jean glanced into the hallway again and blinked owlishly as Marco’s head appeared and he said the thing about being cute and Jean felt his face burst into a hot blush because he had really hoped Marco hadn’t caught on to that. “I… y-you… I mean…” Jean fumbled over his words even though Marco was already gone and he stood there dumbly until the other boy was standing next to him at the base of the stairs. 

Marco felt an absurd mixture of apprehension and elation as he just barely caught Jean's blush and heard the stammering as he moved away. He'd gone too far, he was sure. Crossed the border into dangerous flirting territory. But Jean  _ was _ the one who'd said it first. And the outright blush on Jean's face only reaffirmed in Marco's mind that that  _ was _ what he'd said—or nearly said anyway. 

Jean cleared his throat, still bright red as he started to ascend the stairs in-front of Marco. “I… certainly didn’t say that y-you’re not.” Jean fumbled over the words before ducking into the first room at the top of the stairs which turned out to be a small single. Nothing was there so he moved to the bathroom—again, nothing and he was pleasantly surprised by the lack of dead things in the house. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was certain he’d just overstepped the line from ‘casual bro talk’ to ‘homo’… then again dry humping a guy's ass or nuzzling his crotch weren’t exactly hetero behaviours but luckily it’d been passed off as just ‘one of those things’ that happened when you were sleeping.

Having not expected to hear anything more on the subject, Marco followed along as Jean climbed the stairs. Admittedly, he lingered a few steps farther behind than he could have, gawking at Jean's ass. The house was  _ empty _ or else they'd have heard some signs of life. This was just making  _ sure _ . But he regretted being those extra few steps behind when Jean spoke again. Jean's response was fumbled, but it  _ was _ a response. An almost  _ flirty _ response. And indirectly outright affirming the earlier comment about Marco being cute. And Marco was sure his brain shorted out for a moment, lost in the debate over whether that was a general assessment in an 'objectively you're attractive' or whether that was  _ Jean's _ actual personal opinion. 

Lost in his head and still on the stairs from how he'd lingered, Marco stumbled over the top step with a loud thud and barely managed to keep himself from sprawling across the landing at the top of the stairs, staggering a few steps forward and clutching at the wall. "I… I… w-well that's settled then…" Marco forced a lighthearted laugh as his heart hammered against the inside of his chest. He finished checking the second floor, finding a bedroom with a fairly comfortable-looking bed that looked to be about queen-sized and a closet. "So!" Marco holstered the gun in his hand and clipped them both back in, glad for the distraction. "We're officially free of dead or dying things… Let's uh… grab our bags and see if there's a generator attached to this place?" 

Jean put the safety back on his gun before shoving it in the holster a little too hard, but the tug at his belt and the slight squeeze to his thigh was a good distraction from the dying giraffe noises he was currently making inside his head. This was way too awkward, he was far  _ far _ more practiced at flirting with girls, girls were easy for him now and it was  _ normal  _ and expected but flirting with guys was completely new and was that what he was even doing? On a more important note, surely flirting and shit was the last thing he should be thinking about in their current situation… but it was  _ nice _ and  _ normal _ and trying to make things  _ good _ wasn’t a bad thing surely?

Jean sighed and took the stairs down two at a time. “I’ll check out back for a generator and get it going, at least until it gets dark.” Jean said as he avoided Marco’s gaze out of embarrassment and slipped into the kitchen. He wasn’t even going to open the refrigerator for fear of rotten smells but it looked like their pantry was quite well stocked and he wondered if there was something in there they could cook a near proper meal out of. Still, that could wait and he went over to the back door, unlocked it and then skipped down the two steps there to the back of the house. 

Marco followed behind until Jean ducked into the kitchen. "I… Yeah, okay…" He grimaced slightly at how Jean was blatantly avoiding his gaze. He'd pushed it too far. But Jean had countered him. What did that mean? Once the other teen was outside, Marco let himself collapse against the nearest wall, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. What was he even  _ doing _ by trying to flirt with Jean? Even if for some absurd reason the other boy  _ did _ respond positively to his advances… He barely knew him. They'd wind up fighting over  _ something _ and then Marco would wind up traveling  _ alone _ and that was  _ not _ something he wanted to do. But… making Jean stammer like that… had made him feel  _ good _ … 

There was a small tool shed, a well, and a generator about fifty feet away and Jean gripped his gun as he walked over and checked the small shed, it was empty. With a sigh of relief he closed it and turned on the generator, wincing at the noise it made until it had been going for a few moments. Satisfied that it was working right and the fuel gauge on it was enough to last a few hours Jean went back to the house and locked the back door once inside, unzipping his hoodie and ignoring the fact he was still shirtless beneath as he rolled the sleeves up and turned the cold tap on to wash his hands. Running water. He could have cried.

The sound of the generator kicking on could be heard even inside and Marco jumped, startled by the sound and the way the refrigerator hummed on and the microwave beeped. He never thought he'd be  _ startled _ by those sounds but they just seemed so  _ alien _ to him now. He turned to head into the kitchen when he heard the back door close to find Jean turning on the water. He tried to focus on something that  _ wasn't _ the glimpse of Jean's chest he could barely see from his angle. "Do… do we wanna dare to hope that generator means the boiler works? That there could be  _ hot _ water? I mean… I'd take an ice water shower at this point because wow actual running water but…" Marco gave a hopeful sort of shrug. 

Jean didn’t startle as Marco appeared and started to talk, for once not quite as on edge. “Oh fuck me I hope so where d’you think the boiler in this place is?” He asked, chewing his lip as he squeezed a decent amount of dish soap onto his hands and started to scrub off the dried blood around his fingernails. His fingers were going slightly numb already for the temperature but he  _ would _ get his hands clean even if nothing else until he showered because he really,  _ really _ hated feeling dirty. Especially blood… on his hands. Especially after killing his mom and dragging her corpse into the yard to bury, no… Jean couldn’t handle blood on his hands and he started scrubbing more harshly at it as his anxiety kicked in now that he was focused on them.

“C-could you check… The boiler? I just… I gotta… I can’t stand it on my hands… I need to get it off…” He stumbled over his words as he scrubbed. The water which had been pink at first after washing over him was already clear but Jean didn’t feel clean enough. Not yet. “Cuz yeah… hot shower… or a  _ bath _ too sounds like heaven I ache so much.” 

"I… no idea…" Marco watched as Jean scrubbed at his hands almost obsessively, frowning a bit. But he nodded anyway. Obviously Jean had some kind of  _ thing _ about the blood being on his hands. And Marco wasn't going to question that. "Yeah… Yeah sure… I'll find it… Probably under the stairs or something in a place like this…" A small snort escaped from Marco as Jean said he  _ ached _ . "You ache? At least you slept  _ lying down _ . I think my spine's gone half stiff."  

“Yeah that sounds like the most likely place…” Jean said at Marco’s comment about the boiler’s probable placement. The snort from the other boy had Jean looking over at him briefly and his words only served to bring back the morning's encounter and his face flushed brightly. “I uh… yeah, true…” Was all he could think of to come up with in reply to  _ that _ because what could he say? ‘You have a point man, your thighs are hella comfy and your dick is A+ nuzzling material’? No. No he couldn’t.

Marco frowned at the way Jean was still scrubbing despite the water running clear. "Jean… Jean I think you got it… Your… your fingers are gonna fall off… Why don't… why don't you go get your pack at least… I'll see about the boiler."

“I… it still feels gross…” Jean said pathetically, but Marco had a point because the cold numbness in his fingers was painful now and Jean turned the tap off. “I’ll go get the packs…” He said, licking his lips as he wiped his hands dry on one of the dish towels hanging on a cupboard handle near the sink. He gave Marco an awkward smile before going out to the car. 

Marco sighed slightly, realizing that Jean definitely had  _ some _ kind of 'issue' around blood on his hands. He noted it for reference but chose to not comment because at least he was turning off the water. "Thanks…" Marco nodded and gave a small smile in return when Jean dried off his hands and headed outside. He turned to look around the house briefly, quickly finding the boiler tucked into a little door under the stairs. Messing with it for a few minutes, he was relieved to see it had an electric pilot light and he managed to get it to kick on. The low rumbling hum might as well have been a choir of angels for how good it sounded. Heat. Hot. Water. 

Hoisting his pack onto a shoulder, Jean's gun was next and then he eyed Marco’s pack before grabbing that too. Jean grunted under the weight of them and his shoulders pulled painfully but he was the sort of guy that would rather suffer through one trip than go back a second time. Jean shut the trunk clumsily and then wobbled back into the house, pushing through the front door sideways before dropping the packs and hunching with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Ugh… well that’s done at least.”

When Jean came back in and dropped the bags, Marco jumped slightly at the sound, closing the access door and moving back around to Jean's side. "Did you… You carried both of those at once? Jean, what the hell. You're no good to either of us if you pull your back out!" He stifled a sigh, shaking his head. He'd been sighing too much over Jean's weirdness. "Just… just be careful. Please? …On the other hand, I think I got the boiler working? It's making noises now so… yeah?" 

Stepping around the other teen's hunched form, Marco closed and locked the door before heading for the stairs again. "I'm gonna see if whoever lived here left behind any clothes. I don't think 'farmer chic' is exactly my kind of look but… It's better than 'apocalypse grunge'." He realized belatedly that that could be interpreted to sound a bit stereotypically gay—who the hell even used the word chic—but he shrugged it off in favour of darting up the stairs. 

Jean half pouted when Marco told him off for bringing in both packs at once and he just shrugged slightly. “Rather that then two trips. Not like I’m as weedy as I look anyhow.” When Marco stepped around him and locked the front door Jean stood up and nodded. “Yeah sounds like a plan. And besides isn’t ‘farmer chic’ better than ‘granny chic’? I mean despite my earlier comment I’m not sure a floral dress would quite suit you man.” Jean said, trying to be casual about the subject of the use of ‘cute’ from earlier. Marco  _ hadn’t _ freaked out earlier like he knew his jock friends would have, so that was something at least.

Marco didn't respond other than a huff to the comment about him in a floral dress. If he'd known Jean better, he likely would have let slip a snarky retort that he could  _ totally _ rock that. But as it was, he didn't want to risk Jean taking him  _ literally _ on something like that and just thinking him even weirder. And while he didn't have anything  _ against _ the idea—it could even be kind of really attractive—he didn't want it associated to him personally. 

Upstairs, Marco ducked into the bedroom, opening the closet. He'd almost been expecting overalls or something equally horrible but was pleasantly surprised to find normal, standard  _ jeans _ . And at only a size up from his usual, he could definitely wear them with his belt. Marco thanked whatever strange stroke of luck was responsible for that. He pulled out a t-shirt as well before pausing, debating just how far into the realm of 'too weird' wearing some stranger's boxers would be. On the one hand: apocalypse and lots of walking meant chafing if he tried going commando. On the other hand: stranger's fucking underwear. He frowned, debating with himself. 

With Marco gone, Jean hefted his own pack over his shoulder again and took it to the kitchen, resting it on the small table in there before opening it. Despite his reservations he decided to open the fridge, to find it empty of everything except a carton of milk—which he wasn’t going to touch—and some jam—also not touching. Still, Jean went back over to his pack and took out four of the water bottles, shoving them in the fridge to chill because cold water straight from the fridge was heavenly and he really wanted some. When he was done, Jean shrugged off his hoodie and hung it on the back of a chair before going upstairs to find a change of clothes for himself.

By the time Jean came upstairs, Marco was still debating the underwear issue, pants and shirt draped over one arm. He had a pair of rather bland and nondescript forest green boxers from the dresser in his hand. Hearing Jean coming up the stairs, he started speaking before he even looked up. "D'you think it's too totally weird to swipe some unde—" Jean was shirtless again. And in the better lighting he looked  _ really _ hot, a bit skinny and spotty or splotchy or whatever the right term was but really really hot. Marco realized he'd trailed off mid-word to ogle blatantly and he looked back down sharply, gesturing by shaking the fabric in his hand. And yep, he was sure he was blushing. He forced himself to finish his sentence. "Uh— underwear from whoever lived here?" 

Jean blinked as Marco cut himself off and he wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been caught holding a pair of someone else's boxers or if it was because Jean was topless because he felt like he was being  _ inspected _ . He felt self-conscious and shifted his feet, crossing his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to cover his nipples because it just felt  _ weird _ being looked at like that. It was almost as if… Marco was looking at him the same way Jean sometimes looked at other men and his stomach flip-flopped. 

“U-uh… as long as it’s clean uh… no? I-I mean we’re gonna need it even if it’s weird at first.” Jean shrugged his shoulders and made his way over to grab a pair of boxers, bypassing the red and going for a nondescript grey instead. Holding them sort of awkwardly, Jean went over to the closet where Marco was standing and eyed the jeans. “Oh great. These are gonna fall offa me… I mean I guess it’s good I got a belt now but they’re gonna bunch up a lot ugh.” Jean grabbed a pair anyway and then a t-shirt that looked too big as well. He eyed Marco for a moment before sighing. “Well looks like they’d fit you anyway. Why the hell’m I scrawny as fuck.” He pouted dramatically and then walked out of the room into the hallway, intent on finding some fresh towels for them even though the water wouldn’t be heated yet.

Marco couldn't help feeling a bit guilty when he caught the way Jean tried to cover himself. Neither of them was remotely good at subtle apparently. Not Marco in his gawking and not Jean in his awkward embarrassment. Internally, he wanted to bash his own head against a wall. He  _ really _ needed to keep himself in check. The last thing either of them needed was for Jean to start feeling uncomfortable around him. 

"Right… Yeah… Good point." He nodded at Jean's words. Marco stepped to the side a bit when Jean moved closer to grab clothes for himself, keeping a safe distance between them. When Jean eyed him up, apparently figuring Marco's size, the dark-haired teen couldn't stop his face from turning a bit more pink under the scrutiny. "Yeah… They'll just about fit…" Marco couldn't help the slight lurch of his gut at Jean's dramatic pout. Fuck that was too cute. "…Scrawny isn't exactly a bad thing…" Marco's words were quiet and half-muttered as Jean walked off and he almost hoped they weren't audible as soon as he'd said them.  _ Contain the gay _ , he reminded himself of that adamantly. 

Jean  _ had _ heard Marco’s words but he was sure he’d heard  _ wrong _ so he cleared his throat and opened the linen closet on the upstairs landing, burying his head inside in the guise of finding towels when in reality he needed to fucking stop himself from blushing. It was weird, they were  _ ok _ … mostly, until that morning and then being in an actual house and the prospect of  _ normal  _ things happening. Jean felt his gut twist again and he realised he maybe sort of had a fucking crush on Marco and that was  _ bad _ . In their situation at least.

Groaning and staying there a moment longer, Jean grabbed two fluffy, clean towels and then went back to Marco. He tossed one at the other boy and grinned. “Tanks gonna be warm soon, but it means one of us is gonna have to wait ages for it to heat up again unless you wanna share?” Oh fuck why did he say that? Jean’s dick twitched and he groaned internally because  _ now _ the fucker decided to work? “A-actually you go first! I can wait!” Jean half squeaked before leaving the room quickly and shutting himself in the small spare bedroom because he wasn’t sure if his dick was going to get completely hard or just a little bit but either way he didn’t need Marco knowing.

Marco was busy reprimanding himself for making things too awkward for them and was lost in his thoughts. So when Jean came back, Marco flailed a bit to catch the towel being tossed at him unexpectedly. And nearly dropped it again immediately after when Jean suggested they  _ share _ the shower. Marco was sure his face resembled some sort of strawberry as he stared wide-eyed. And he  _ really _ didn't need to be thinking about Jean in the shower, much less Jean in the shower  _ with _ him. He was immensely glad for the fact the towel was dangling such as to block his groin from view because  _ nope _ Jean had seen more than enough of Marco's boners already. But he still gawked and blushed and stared. 

At least, until Jean stammered that Marco could go first and all but bolted into the other bedroom, shutting the door between them. Then, he panicked. Did Jean bolt because of the way Marco blushed at the idea? Had his  _ face _ outed him instead of his words or his dick like he'd been expecting? He wasn't sure. Why else would Jean have bolted? Unless Jean was somehow equally embarrassed by the idea. But he had no reason to be. Except for the slight almost-flirting. But that didn't mean anything. Right? Fuck. Marco couldn't tell how much of this was actually suggestive and how much of it was just wishful thinking anymore. Not good. Marco groaned under his breath, deciding to sit down on the—surprisingly very comfy—bed and wait for the water to finish warming up—clothes firmly in his lap on the chance Jean decided to come out of the other room. 

Jean had been right. His dick was getting spectacularly hard and the jeans were just constricting him painfully so he dropped the fresh clothes and the towel onto the bed, grabbing at the hem of his pants and pulling the button and then the fly open. Jean flopped onto the bed sideways and kicked his shoes off, groaning loudly at how fucking  _ good _ an actual bed felt as he palmed at himself. It had been way too long since his dick  _ worked _ and despite the situation they were now living in he was currently  _ safe _ , and sheltered and he had some privacy. So Jean was damn well going to take advantage of that fact, especially when his impotent cock decided to wake up. Even if it  _ had _ been sudden and humiliating.

Rolling onto his back Jean yanked his pants and underwear off and spread his legs a bit, gripping his erection firmly and wasting no time before setting a hard and fast pace. Fuck patience he was too pent up to take his time. He groaned again and then pressed his free hand over his mouth because noisy was  _ not _ a good idea when you were like one room away from another guy who things were already a bit weird with. A  _ hot _ guy… “Fuck-” Jean moaned the profanity into his hand and arched his back, trembling hard as he quickly approached his orgasm. Doing everything he knew to get all the  _ right _ places to get him off as quickly as possible. As he got close Jean pressed two of his fingers into his mouth, remembering that morning and how Marco’s erection had been pressed to his face. Jean whimpered slightly and came hard and thick onto his belly before sagging limply, trying to catch his breath.

Marco's ears perked when he heard a groan from the other bedroom. He had to have mis-heard that sound. But then there was  _ another _ groan. A very  _ pleasured _ sounding groan. Marco couldn't help himself, he was on his feet in moments and crossing the room and into the hall, winding up outside the other door. Just in time to hear Jean's moaned curse. Was he… He had to have been jacking off… Right? Jean was wanking right after having bolted from the room after suggesting he and Marco share a shower. That… that  _ had _ to mean something. …Didn't it? 

Marco knew he  _ really _ shouldn't have been listening. But he  _ was _ listening. Oh fuck he was  _ really _ listening to Jean pleasuring himself. Marco bit down hard on his lip to stifle a groan as a shudder ran up his spine. He might have  _ really _ had a bit of a fixation on sounds. And the other teen just sounded so good, even stifled through the wall between them. But then there was a whimper and the sound of the bed squeaking slightly. And Marco wasn't sure if Jean had collapsed onto it or was getting up off of it. And he wasn't in the slightest prepared to admit he'd listened in. 

So instead, Marco bolted into the bathroom, closing the door and leaning heavily against it with a stifled whine as he palmed himself. Checking that the door was locked, Marco dropped his towel and clothes onto the counter. He turned on the water, letting it run for a minute as he stripped himself, biting down another noise at the cold air against the heat of his erection. He stepped into the water with a contented sigh at the warmth soaking into his skin. Marco tried ignoring his dick's insistent twitching as he remembered Jean's comment about  _ sharing _ while scrubbing shampoo into his hair. And he honestly debated flipping the water to cold then and there. But in the end, his dick won out and he found himself leaning against the tiled wall, stroking himself hard and fast with a soap-slick hand. He stifled himself with a hand over his mouth, letting himself get carried away by the images his brain was supplying all too easily.

It did take a  _ bit _ longer than when he'd gotten off after waking up to Jean literally nuzzling his dick—okay, through his clothes but  _ still _ —it still took an embarrassingly short amount of time before the movements and fantasies had Marco tipping his head back with a stifled groan as the evidence of his libidinous indulgence disappeared down the drain. Coming back down hard from the high of his orgasm, he washed the soap out of his hair and scrubbed the rest of himself down thoroughly until his skin was red and the water started to cool. Marco turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, drying and dressing himself quickly. He grabbed up his dirty clothes carefully so he could get the things out of his pockets before unlocking and opening the door, clothes in one hand and toweling at his hair with the other. He'd need a haircut soon, he realized with irritation. 

Jean was oblivious that Marco had heard him let alone listened in, only half noting the sound of the bathroom door shutting a few moments after he’d cum. The sound of the shower running was soothing and Jean almost wanted to fall asleep, but they needed to eat and he  _ could _ find something for them whilst Marco washed and Jean waited for the water to reheat. Humming softly Jean sat up on the bed and decided the borrowed clothes could be worn now, there were plenty for him to grab more for after his shower after all and he didn’t like the thought of putting his dirty jeans and boxers back on.

He pulled the t-shirt over his head after wiping the cum from his stomach with his old jeans and then yanked on the boxers. They hung low on his hips and the style was such that the leg covered down to almost his knees. Sighing Jean shrugged and decided to forgo the pants for now as he left the room. After all, he wore shorter shorts every time he went running. Jean went downstairs, washed his hands thoroughly and then went into the pantry. There was  _ pasta _ and there was an in-date jar of tomato pasta sauce and Jean felt his eyes water because it was  _ food _ . Jean grabbed the pasta and the sauce and went back into the kitchen, swearing as he looked through cupboards and finally finding the pots for cooking he grabbed one, filled it with water and put it on the stove to heat up. By the time Marco was done in the shower and Jean heard the water turn off, the pasta was half cooked and the sauce was slowly heating in a small pan next to it.

After transferring the contents of his pockets—or at least as much as he could because he'd have to put some things in his bag instead now—and carefully switching his belt, the holsters, and the knife sheath to the new pants, Marco poked around upstairs briefly. The door to the bedroom the other boy had been holed up in was open. And he wasn't in the other bedroom either. Finding no sign of Jean, Marco headed downstairs. He heard sounds coming from the kitchen. And what vaguely sounded like bubbling water? Jean was cooking, he concluded. Which meant  _ food _ . 

"Jean…? Did you actually manage to find food?" Marco asked his question as he headed for the kitchen. But once he was  _ in _ the kitchen, he stopped dead. And he was  _ very _ glad that he'd decided to take care of his boner rather than just freeze it away because even so soon after getting off, his dick was giving an excited but half-hearted twitch. Because Jean wasn't wearing any  _ pants _ . And Marco was sure he was red in the face again and he  _ really _ needed to stop doing that. But he couldn't help gawking at Jean's legs which were very  _ very _ nice—of course they were because Jean's thing was  _ track _ . "I… you… pants… uhm?" Well that was fucking eloquent. Marco internally made a dying sound but managed to tear his eyes away to look at the stove instead, abruptly changing the topic. "Oh my god… actual pasta and sauce…"  

Jean jumped slightly when Marco came into the kitchen and he really  _ had  _ to stop doing that and get more observant because either the other boy walked like a ghost or he really was deaf. But then Marco was stuttering something about Jean and pants and he looked down at himself and he’d felt  _ fine _ about it before but now he felt sort of weird. Blinking Jean shifted a bit and tugged on the hem of the shirt he was wearing, stirring the pasta when Marco commented on it. “Yeah it’s in date still so I thought it’d be nice…” 

Jean paused a moment before looking down at himself again. “Is it really weird? Like… these’re like three times longer than what I usually wear to run in so I thought it wasn’t that bad and I’m going to shower soon anyway like after eating but I mean… if it’s weird I… can go put the jeans on as well…” Jean had never felt quite so self-conscious about his body as he did around Marco, it didn’t help that every time he looked down he saw his skin covered in pale areas of splattered looking freckles and splotches where his skin used to be flawless and tanned. His body hair too was  _ white _ now and he’d tried not looking every time he did a pee because it just made him feel like a fucking freak, let alone when he looked at his  _ face _ and the hair on his head in a mirror. Some part of him really wanted to impress the other boy, he wanted to be  _ attractive _ even though Marco probably wasn’t even into dudes. But when Marco so often looked at him oddly—even if Jean had gotten the wrong idea at least once—it made him feel a little less careless about what he was wearing.

"Pasta sounds amazing…" Marco caught the way Jean tugged at the shirt and gnawed at his lip guiltily. He hadn't meant to make the other boy feel self-conscious about it or anything. It just… wasn't conducive to the continued limpness of his dick. When Jean asked if it was 'weird', Marco was quick to shake his head. Even as the idea of the other teen in those obscenely short running shorts he knew the track team had a tendency to wear popped into his head. Marco wondered how he'd managed to  _ not _ think about that before and now that he  _ had _ he wondered how he was going to  _ stop _ thinking about it. "N-no. N-not weird. I just… wasn't expecting it. I… It's fine. Makes sense… Not weird at all." 

For something to do  _ other _ than focus on Jean's legs, Marco found himself moving to look through the cabinets until he found the glasses. Pulling down two, he filled them both with water and set them on the kitchen table before heading back to the cabinets to get down plates and dig out forks. It was terribly domestic and horribly alien to the last few months. But it also felt like a breath of fresh air. It was a burst of normalcy to urge them both on. "So… water, plates, cutlery… Anything else I can do…?" 

“Mn… ‘kay.” Jean said, a little more subdued as he tested the firmness of the pasta and decided it was almost done. He went to the cupboard that he’d found the saucepans in and dragged out a colander to drain the pasta in, resting it in the sink after Marco had filled their glasses. Turning the heat off under both the pasta and the sauce pans Jean moved to the sink and tipped the pasta into the colander to drain, dropping the pan into the sink next to it and lifting the colander to shake a few times. Steam billowed up from it and he leaned back a bit so he didn’t get a faceful of it. Done with that Jean went over to the sauce pan and tipped the pasta inside, it  _ just _ fit and he stirred it to coat it in the sauce before pulling a plate over and dishing some up for Marco. 

“I made a lot, so like there’s gonna be seconds if you want it. Just… would be nice to be full for once y’know?” Jean smiled slightly sadly before he pushed the full plate to the side for Marco to get and filled his own. Jean wasted no time in taking it over to the table with some cutlery and as soon as he was sitting he started to eat, groaning happily and savouring the flavour even though it was really such a simple meal. Or would have been in the past any way.

Marco watched as Jean finished up the food, coming back to lean a hip against the counter just out of the other's way. A slightly fond smile found its way to his face by the time Jean was stirring the pasta and sauce together. Absolutely  _ disgustingly _ domestic. And it was so very very good. And comfortable. Marco's mind wandered unbidden to how he'd thought his life would go only months before. Living his life, going to college, getting a boyfriend and sharing an apartment with him, having meals together… He felt his heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest when his brain saw fit to casually doodle  _ Jean _ into that role and he forced the idea away. At Jean's saddened words, Marco's face fell slightly but he forced himself to smile a bit wider anyway, taking the plate and grabbing up his fork before going to sit down. "Yeah… Sounds good." 

Eating slowly, Marco savoured the food with a satisfied noise, not even attempting to speak until a few minutes later when he was several bites in. It was plain, sure. But it was so much more flavour than months of canned and pre-packaged goods. Real, cooked, hot food. "Oh my god… I never thought I'd miss pasta so much…" He gave a happy sigh before continuing to eat, wiping at the corner of his mouth when a bit of sauce escaped him. When he finished, he got up to get himself a bit more—although a much smaller portion—before sitting down again. He was surprised by how  _ full _ he felt already, his stomach apparently having shrunk more than he'd realized. But he could still manage a little bit more at least. 

Jean wasn’t as restrained as Marco and he ate quickly, licking sauce from his lips frequently. When Marco sighed happily Jean hummed his agreement and finished up, he grabbed seconds and finished that just as quickly before placing a hand on his stomach. “I feel sick but it’s such a good sick oh my god I’m so full.” Jean muttered as he leaned back in his chair and took a drink of the water Marco had gotten him. “Nhh… I guess the water will be warm again by now but I don’t think I can move.” Jean slipped lower in the chair for a moment and closed his eyes, it was so calm here right now.

Marco was still working on his second helping when Jean leaned back. He finished the bite he was chewing and took a drink of his water. A slight laugh escaped him as he very deliberately tried to avoid thinking about Jean in the shower, glad for how far in towards the table he'd scooted his seat. "Mnh… probably warm by now, yeah…" He watched as Jean slid down in his seat. The other boy looked so peaceful and relaxed. 

After another long moment Jean decided he really wanted a shower and full or not he was going to go and have one. He stood and looked at the dirty plates before shrugging. “I’m gonna go shower now then I’ll probably crash uh… you think it’s safe to leave the generator running? Or… we should probably turn it off before it gets dark it’s kind of noisy and the lights might be too visible I dunno.” Jean said, chewing his lip for a moment but ultimately deciding to leave the choice to Marco. “If you turn it off you think you could drop a couple candles in the spare room for me though? There’s candles and matches in the pantry, bottom shelf.” Jean gave a cheeky grin before going upstairs to have his shower, grabbing more fresh clothes on the way. 

When Jean stood, Marco nodded, stretching. "Should probably turn it off… No sense attracting attention…" It wasn't worth the risk. "But yeah, sure. I'm probably just going to crash out once I get up there…" Tilting his head towards the pantry, Marco nodded at the information. Still, he couldn't help a slight blush—he really needed to get that under control—rising to his face at the combination of Jean's grin—which looked way too good on him—and the thought of Jean's features lit by flickering candlelight. Marco found himself thinking the tone of Jean's skin would look  _ very _ good that way. Shoving the thought away, he waited until Jean was out of the room before heading outside, unclasping the strap securing one of the guns just in case. He shut the generator down with a sad goodbye to modern conveniences before heading back inside and locking up behind him. 

Marco dug out the matches and candles before getting down a few saucers. He used one match to secure the bottom of two candles to each of two saucers as a makeshift candle holder. Marco made a final round of the first floor to check that all of the windows and doors were locked. Debating for a long moment, he opted to leave their bags by the door, grabbing the saucers and two matchboxes to take upstairs. He left one on the nightstand in the spare room, taking the other into the other bedroom with him and closing the door behind him but not locking it. Marco put his guns and knife onto the nightstand—close within reach but not in danger of shooting his foot off in his sleep—beside the candles before curling up under the covers. An actual bed and actual blankets seemed so nice after so many days of the hard back of a car. The idle wonder of if they could at least take a blanket or two extra with them when they left was his last thought before falling asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally they're actually toying with flirting with each other! Finally!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something good can come out of even the worst nightmares. But after a precious night of 'normalcy', where do Jean and Marco stand? Finally reaching a sprawling city, they have no choice but to cross on foot, no matter what dangers might be lurking in the buildings looming overhead.

Jean took his time in the shower that evening. Until the water was starting to get cold again and the light was waning enough that he almost tripped over the bath mat where it was ruched up at the corner. He dried himself and shoved on the new boxers and t-shirt before flopping into the bed he’d opted to take with a sigh. Jean fell asleep quickly, warm and comfortable in an actual bed with actual blankets and he was actually clean.

However, it was only around an hour later that he woke up with a scream in his throat that came out as a strangled choke instead, gasping and trembling as he sat up with a sob. Jean pressed his hands to his face and tried to stop the tears that had started during his sleep from continuing to fall, but he couldn’t. He felt on edge and sick, memories of killing his mother fresh in his mind and he felt like his hands were caked in thick, tar-like blood from it. Jean stumbled out of bed and didn’t bother with the candle or pants as he felt his way out of his room and across the hallways to where Marco was sleeping. He opened the door and closed it as quietly as he could but his breath was still heavy and hitching as he stood at the side of the bed feeling like a fucking idiot. This was the sort of thing  _ children _ did when they had bad dreams, not almost fully grown guys. 

“M-Mar..co…” Jean sobbed, unable to stop himself crying yet despite his best efforts. He didn’t dare move until the other boy responded, knew it was him and wasn’t going to shoot him out of shock or grouch at him for waking him up. Jean fumbled with the edge of his shirt for a moment before debating just going back to his room because this was pathetic and selfish of him but he  _ needed _ some form of fucking human comfort. Jean wasn’t a strong person.

Marco started to stir at the sound of the door to the bedroom opening, groggy and blinking in the darkness. There was a  _ shadow _ by his bed, looming tall, and he panicked for a moment before his brain registered the sound of hitching  _ crying _ breaths. And then his name. Eyes finally deciding to work, he could barely make out the white of Jean's hair. It was Jean by his bed. Crying. Marco was very awake very quickly. And very worried. 

"Ngh… Jean…? Jean, wuh's wrong…?" Marco's words were still sleepily slurred around a yawn. Half asleep, Marco couldn't even be bothered with how things would be interpreted or seeming 'too gay' or any of that  _ crap _ because Jean was  _ crying _ and that was  _ bad _ and he had to  _ help _ . So he instead folded the sheets back, scooting a bit farther away and patting the space on the bed. "C'mere. S'okay… What's wrong…?" He was starting to wake up a bit more, becoming more coherent. 

When Marco answered him Jean muffled a distressed sound because he wasn’t sure he wanted to elaborate too much on the  _ details _ of what had messed him up. “I… I had… Flashbacks… I can’t…” His voice broke around the words slightly and when Marco moved and pulled the covers back Jean didn’t even hesitate before slipping into the bed. He did, however, hesitate before a violent shiver ran through him and he rolled closer to Marco and wrapped an arm around the other boy in a tight, trembling hug. The arm against the bed trapped between their bodies. 

“I… just… r-remembered stuff and… I can’t… it won't… stop…” Jean said quietly, slightly calmer now that he had the reassuring warmth of Marco pressed against him. Marco who was so very  _ alive  _ and  _ not sick _ and there to get his back and embarrass him and make him forget how awful everything was in those special, small moments. Like when Marco got food for them or they had awkward boners or stared a little too long at each other. The sarcasm and the jokes and the stupid eighties music.

When Jean said the word 'flashbacks' it took Marco a long moment to figure out what he was talking about. Long enough that Jean was already slipping into the bed with him. But then he let out a sad but sympathetic sigh of the other boy's name. "Jean…" Then Jean was rolling close to him and hugging him tight. Marco tensed momentarily but then relaxed, tugging the blankets up around them before hugging him back just as tight. 

Marco gave another small, sleepy sigh. Jean's warmth felt good and comfortable and right against Marco and he let himself give a little squeeze in his embrace. "Hey… it's okay… that's the past now okay… It's behind you, it's over…" He hated hearing the pain in Jean's tone. And  _ fuck _ he really did have a really bad crush on the other teen because all he wanted was just to make it better. Somehow. However he could. Seeing Jean hurting hurt him. "You're here now. This is now. You and me right here. You're safe. It's okay." Marco was vaguely sure he was setting off blaring I'm-a-homo alarms left and right but in his defense Jean was the one who crawled into  _ his _ bed. And gay or not, he wasn't even  _ thinking _ anything perverted. He just wanted to cling to Jean and make him feel better. And okay maybe kiss it better. And sure that was a bit gay. But he  _ really _ liked Jean. And mostly Marco just wanted to make him feel better however  _ he _ needed. 

When Marco hugged him back just as tightly Jean whimpered quietly. It felt so good, and calming, and  _ safe _ and Marco was so very good to him even though in the past by social norms they would have been ‘enemies’. But there were no social norms any more and Marco was such a great person and Jean’s heart was beating so fucking fast. His sobbing had subsided into faint sniffles as Marco told him he was safe and they were ok and Jean couldn’t help himself. He’d probably ruin everything and get punched in the face and Marco would drive off and leave him there but he’d never been good at stopping his impulsiveness. So Jean tipped his head back slightly and leaned up and kissed Marco square on the lips despite how dark it was and how cloudy from tears his vision was. 

Jean couldn’t help the small sound of  _ relief _ at the sensation, pulling away a few lingering moments later. “S-sorry… I’m sorry… I just… can’t help it any more.” Jean chewed his lip and ducked his head and clung more tightly to Marco even though he knew he should probably fucking run because he wasn’t up for the rejection right now and oh god he was almost dizzy with the adrenaline of kissing another guy. It had felt so fucking  _ right _ though. 

Marco's eyes went wide when Jean leaned up and pressed their lips together. Kissing him. Jean was kissing him. Jean. Was kissing him. Was kissing Marco. Marco gasped slightly in a sharp inhale through his nose, tensing. And he almost missed the relieved noise Jean made at the contact. But all too soon for Marco's taste Jean was pulling away and  _ apologising _ ? For that? And saying he couldn't help it? And still clinging onto Marco even tighter? 

A soft, incredulous laugh bubbled out of Marco's throat. He unwrapped his free arm from where it was wrapped around Jean's body to cup around the other boy's cheek. "You're so fucking blind…" Tipping Jean's head up, he couldn't help grinning before leaning in and pressing their lips together in another kiss. Marco couldn't help it, he let himself revel in the sensation. Jean clinging onto him and kissing him and it was still so impossible but at the same time it was  _ good _ . 

When Marco laughed and unwrapped his arm from around Jean the white haired teen was so fucking confused it almost hurt, but then Marco’s hand was on his cheek and what? Blind? Jean frowned but before he could even say anything else he was being kissed back. Marco was  _ kissing him back _ and Jean’s breath hitched and that relieved noise bubbled out of him again but louder this time. This was really happening… right? Jean wasn’t still sleeping and having a cruel dream. The hand pressed between their bodies wiggled up to rest on Marco’s cheek and the one around the other boy pulled him closer.

Eyes shut and lost in revelling in the kiss, Marco gave a surprised gasp before sighing at the touch to his cheek as he was pulled closer. When Jean started to  _ move _ , Marco responded easily as he moved his lips to match the other boy's movements. He kept his movements light but tender, making no move to push things further. He was still in complete shock that this was even  _ happening _ . Jean was kissing him. He was kissing Jean. Marco wasn't entirely sure he wasn't about to wake up from some torturously nice dream. 

Jean tipped his head back a little more and kneaded his lips against Marcos softly, eyes closed as he drank in the sensations and tried to commit them to memory because he didn’t know when or if they’d get to kiss like this again. “Mmm…” The panic over his nightmare, and the rejection, washed away within that moment their lips were touching and Jean let out a trembling sigh against Marco’s mouth as he pulled away a fraction. “I… I wanna… just say… to make it clear… this is…  _ totally _ full homo… and it feels great…” He gave a breathless little chuckle, cheeks red.

Marco gave an equally breathless laugh in response to Jean's words. "No shit, sherlock… Besides, I kind of  _ am _ totally full homo." Not even remotely how he'd pictured coming out to Jean in even his most absurd ideas. He frowned slightly, worrying at his lip and not wanting to ask the question lurking in his mind. "But I… thought  _ you _ were straight…" As much as he  _ did _ have a thing for Jean, he didn't want to be some temporary comfort just out of convenience because he happened to be there. 

Marco’s laugh made Jean’s stomach feel as if it was filled with butterflies and he sighed and laughed at the no shit Sherlock comment. Shrugging a shoulder. “Just needed to make it clear.” He whispered, grin widening as Marco confessed to being gay and somehow that made him less paranoid about this being a terrible idea. But Marco’s question made him realise the other boy had been worrying too and he shook his head, pressing a kiss to Marco’s jawline briefly. 

“No, although I’ve only ever done things with girls I’m hmm… Pansexual? I guess.” Jean gave a slight shrug of his shoulder. “I don’t really think it matters what someone has between their legs is what I mean and to be honest… this… kissing you feels way better than the girls I’ve kissed before, for some reason.” He admitted the last part shyly, pressing his face against the crook of Marco’s neck to hide it even though it was too dark to really see the depth of his blush. In-fact doing that probably meant Marco could  _ feel _ it better. “It’s not like I could be all open about it at school or shit though… But… shoulda seen my tumblr.” Jean snorted an amused sound.

Marco hummed slightly at the kiss to his jaw, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when Jean said he was pansexual. So Marco  _ wasn't _ crazy to think Jean had been responding to his flirting. The admission and the way Jean hid his face away with apparently very hot cheeks had Marco blushing as well with a flutter in his chest that was almost painful in its intensity. "I… u-uhm… thanks?" What was he supposed to say to that? He wasn't even remotely sure. 

A laugh escaped from Marco's throat as Jean mentioned his tumblr. "Oh yeah? Super blatant?" He let his hand drop and his arm move back to wrapping around the other teen. "Honestly… I'm kinda surprised you didn't know though. Considering how…" Considering how much shit the kids he'd usually seen Jean hanging around with had given him for it. Marco shook his head. "No, never mind. Forget it…" He pressed a kiss to the side of Jean's head. "We should… we should get some rest…" 

Jean felt even more embarrassed after Marco’s sort of lost thanks to his comment, he briefly wondered how the hell he used to flirt with girls but then again Marco was  _ nothing _ like those girls had been so it wouldn’t work the same way anyway. But the subject changed and Jean nodded. “Mhm… if you call gay manga scans and pictures of guys with clothed boners super blatant.” He paused for a moment. “Which I do.”Jean added with a soft laugh.

At Marco’s words about being surprised Jean didn’t know he shrugged a bit. “I just… assume dudes are straight until they tell or show you otherwise? It was safer that way… And like… the guys I hung about with were pretty fucking nasty about that stuff, which is why I sort of only spoke to them at sports meets n stuff. S’why I didn’t have any close friends… I guess.” Jean paused again, chewing his lip because Marco had mentioned having his keys flushed and stuff. “Did they… I mean… Sorry if they treated you bad, I’m guessing they did. I usually just sort of tuned out whenever they talked about doing nasty shit to people… sorry…nh.” The kiss to the side of his head made Jean nuzzle against Marco a bit more. “B-but yeah. Sleep sounds good, I’m… I’ve calmed down now. Thank you Marco.” Jean squeezed Marco a bit tighter for a moment before venturing quietly, unsure. “Can we… stay like this?”

When Jean mentioned clothed boners, Marco couldn't help briefly flashing back to their unusual awakening that morning and he blushed. "A little bit blatant at least then…" Jean's laugh sounded so good to Marco's ears and he gave a small laugh of his own. He nodded slightly at Jean's words about assuming people were straight. Marco himself had done that as well in this situation. Granted, he didn't  _ usually _ and it had gotten him in trouble before. Which was part of what made him so paranoid when it came to Jean. 

Jean calling those guys 'pretty fucking nasty' had Marco snorting under his breath. That was an understatement. He shrugged at the apology. It wasn't Jean's fault. He knew full well anyone who tried to speak out against shit like that just wound up getting it turned on them instead. "I mean… it taught me to be more careful, that's for sure. But it's in the past now. It doesn't matter anymore." The sick fucks were all probably dead or dying and somehow that made Marco almost gleeful in a twisted sort of way. When the other boy asked if they could stay like that, Marco gave a light laugh and squeezed him back. He tugged the blankets up over them a bit more and adjusted himself slightly, keeping Jean curled against him. "If you think I'm letting you leave me alone again to slink off back to the other bed now, you've got another thing coming." 

“Mnh… I guess.” Jean said sleepily, grinning lazily as Marco said he wasn’t letting him go again. The covers being pulled up around them were soft and warm and Marco was even warmer. He hummed as he arched against the other boy and tangled their legs together. “G-good…” He said bashfully as he pressed a kiss to Marco’s collar above the shirt he was wearing. Closing his eyes Jean quickly relaxed into the comfortable position they were in and it wasn’t long at all before he was asleep.

Marco gave a content noise at the kiss, settling in easily. He was awake for a short while longer, just enjoying how Jean felt curled against him. It had felt so good having just some kind of contact but now this… with the fact that Jean apparently at least somewhat  _ liked _ him… It was something else entirely. But eventually the soft sounds of the other's breaths lulled Marco into sleep as well. 

Hours later, and after the best sleep Jean had had in a long while, the white haired teen opened his eyes to a room filled with the light of morning and a warm body pressed to his. A warm body  _ intentionally _ pressed to his and he sighed happily. Until he realised Marco was hard again but the other boy was still asleep and his arms were around Jean so wonderfully tightly and oh god Jean didn’t want him to wake up  _ just yet _ . Biting his lip Jean gave a guilty but slight roll of his hips and muffled a soft groan as his dick responded eagerly and so very easily. Jean waited for a few more minutes, but when Marco didn’t stir he nudged his pelvis forwards again, this time slower and slightly harder and his cock felt so  _ nice _ pressed against Marco. But Jean was also very aware that this was really quite creepy of him and molesting Marco when he himself was asleep was one thing but doing it intentionally whilst the other boy was oblivious was something else entirely. So he stopped, and closed his eyes and willed his cock to go down… It didn’t.

Starting to stir just slightly at the sound of Jean's groan and pressure against his dick, Marco slowly became aware of Jean still curled up against him as the night before came back to him. And oh… They'd… they'd kissed. He was still in a mostly-asleep and unresponsive state when Jean did it the second time. But he was at least awake enough to  _ register _ it. And the fact that he was hard. And Jean was hard. And had just rolled his hips against him. And oh  _ that _ was a thing. He forced himself to not react, waiting a bit longer to see if Jean was going to do it again, not sure if the other boy was sleep-humping him again or what. 

After a long minute, Marco groaned in faux-waking and stretched slightly with an arch of his back that pushed their hips closer together. He gasped—half in a well-perfected imitation of surprise and half in legitimate pleasure—at the feeling of the hard line of Jean's cock against his through the fabric, freezing momentarily. He figured he could allow himself that indulgence at least before he very deliberately shifted his hips away and blinked his eyes open. He untangled one from where it wrapped around Jean to rub at his own eyes slightly as he tried to adjust to the bright room. "Mgnh… Jean… Jean… S'morning…" 

When Marco groaned and woke Jean was  _ very _ glad he’d stopped when he had because the thought of being caught and called a pervert was a bit much for him when things between them were so tentative and unknown right now. But then Marco arched and their cocks pressed again and Marco  _ gasped _ and Jean couldn’t stop the whimper escaping him in time before it was out and he grit his teeth and prayed to god the other boy hadn’t heard it because he was calling Jean’s name and telling him it was morning. “Y-yeah…” Jean failed at sounding as if he’d just woken up, far too conscious of his raging boner.

Jean was sort of frozen to the spot as Marco rubbed at his eyes, Jean’s hand moving up to cover his face from where it had still been trapped between them. His face was hot with a blush and he decided it was probably best for him to move away… even though Marco felt good, and the bed was warm… and comfy… Jean groaned, lamenting the fact they had to keep travelling.

The  _ whimper _ didn't escape Marco's notice and he stifled another sound. Jean was  _ awake _ . And it was only further confirmed by how awake he sounded when he spoke. Still, he couldn't exactly hold it against the other teen when Marco himself had deliberately stretched against him. 

But Marco didn't know exactly where they stood now and he wasn't going to risk pushing on something so new and potentially fragile and risk breaking it. So instead of just deliberately grinding against him as he  _ ached _ to do, Marco gave a soft but light laugh, settling his hand on Jean's shoulder lightly. "I uh… think we're both a little touch-starved… Should uhm… both probably take a few minutes for that before we head out." He bit at his lip lightly for just the briefest moment. "But… can I at least get another kiss before we get up…?" 

Marco’s laugh both warmed and embarrassed Jean equally and he chewed his lip as Marco said they were touch starved and god why was it so embarrassing for Marco to  _ know _ Jean was fucking achingly hard it wasn’t like it was the first time. In-fact Jean usually just made a show of it when he was with Hitch but with Marco he was sort of… lost. In theory, he knew a ton about two guys together. In practice? Never been there. 

“Mnh… yeah… Yeah I’d like that.” Jean finally said with regards to the kiss. So he tilted his head up and gave Marco a bashful smile before leaning in to capture the other boy's lips with his own. Just like the night before Jean found he  _ really _ liked the feeling of Marco’s mouth on his and he moved his hands up to cup the other teens cheeks for a moment before smoothing one back through Marco’s hair to cup the nape of his neck. “Mm…” Jean sighed as he mouthed at Marco’s lips but didn’t use tongue—he wasn’t sure if he  _ should _ and even so if he  _ did _ he was going to want more and it wasn’t really… the right time for that. With how new this all was. 

Marco felt his heart give a little flip at the smile Jean gave him when he agreed. He let his eyes fall shut at the kiss with a soft sigh. The other teen's lips were soft and warm and tender against his own and it felt even more fantastic now that he was fairly sure it wasn't just some absurd and unlikely dream. An absurd and unlikely reality on the other hand? He'd take that any day. 

When Jean's hands were at his cheeks unexpectedly, Marco gasped in a short breath of air. But that breath of air escaped him again moments later as a small but embarrassingly  _ not-stifled _ moan at the fingers in his hair. He almost loathed the fact that he was always so sensitive to something that was so simple of a thing. And he was  _ very _ glad he'd shifted his hips away when he had the chance as they jerked slightly. Marco pulled away after the noise, cheeks red and looking anywhere but Jean's eyes. All the other boy had done was run his fingers through his hair and Marco had flat out moaned from it and that was just  _ embarrassing _ . "S-sorry I uhm… w-we should g-get up and get going…" 

When Marco gasped Jean drank the sound in greedily because it was such a lovely one, but when Marco  _ moaned _ Jean’s cock throbbed and his eyes snapped open in surprise because that was unexpected. He hadn’t even  _ done  _ anything yet… right? Other than brush his fingers through Marco’s hair… _ oh _ . Jean filed that information away for later use even though Marco looked mildly mortified.

Jean cleared his throat and watched Marco’s embarrassed face for a moment before averting his gaze too, blush deeper than before. “Y-yeah… Probably should.” Jean licked his lips and couldn’t help almost mischievously running his fingers through Marco’s hair again, scratching his scalp just a little with his fingernails this time. “But first I uh… I mean we should um… sort ourselves out… y’know…” He paused before quickly adding. “S-separately. Of course I mean… yeah.” Coughing to cover his embarrassment Jean reluctantly rolled away from Marco and stood up. The oversized boxers he was wearing were tented rather magnificently and Jean half yelped and yanked the t-shirt down before quickly leaving the room, shutting himself in the spare room again with a groan.

Marco nodded slightly when Jean agreed with him, expecting that to be the end of it. But then the white-haired boy had to go and run his fingers through Marco's hair again and even  _ scratch _ at him and Marco clamped his eyes shut, biting his lip hard to stifle the pleasured sound that tore its way out of him. He was sure his pupils were blown out by the time he opened his eyes. Which happened to be just as Jean was saying they should sort themselves out. Which had a small choking noise escaping from Marco's throat. 

Which just made Marco nod all the more quickly when Jean added that he meant separately. And oh the freckled teen  _ wanted _ it to be very much  _ not _ separately. But that was  _ definitely _ too much too fast. And it was bad enough that he was still a bit mortified that Jean had so quickly discovered one of Marco's… sexual quirks. Still, he couldn't help gawking at the impressive tent in Jean's boxers with a lick of his lips. Sure he'd  _ felt _ that bulge against his ass but  _ seeing _ it was something else. 

Almost as soon as Jean had closed the door to the other bedroom, Marco half-bolted out of bed to close the door as well before flopping back down against to the bed. He had to admit, he  _ was _ tempted—oh god so fucking tempted—to listen-in on Jean again. But now that they had… whatever it was they had going, it just seemed weird. So instead, Marco undid his pants, shoving them and the boxers down to his knees before gripping himself in a firm grip, thoughts drifting quickly and easily to Jean. He allowed himself to savour it more than he had the two times before. In no small part due to the fact he knew the other teen was likely doing the exact same thing only a short number of steps away. And  _ fuck _ that meant they were both wanking while both fully aware each other was doing so and that was surprisingly hot. Marco stifled the sounds that wanted to escape him as best as he possibly could, hand clamped over his mouth tight enough to find it slightly hard to breathe as his breaths shortened and became more shallow with his impending climax. Remembering the feeling of Jean's lips against his, Marco's thoughts drifted from there to those lips anywhere—everywhere as he worked himself. 

Jean leaned back against the door and let his head fall back against the wood for a moment. Eyes closed as he remembered the way Marco’s lips had felt on his and how their bodies had felt pressed together and  _ hard _ . The most wonderful being the way Marco had moaned when Jean ran his fingers through his hair and the white haired teen groaned as he slowly palmed himself through the boxers for a few beats. Ultimately though, Jean was never very patient and he quickly moved to pull them down to his thighs, exposing himself as he pulled the shirt up and off, tossing it on the bed for later.

Jean wrapped his hand around his cock and groaned again, breath stuttering around the noise as he began stroking himself firmly. Shoulders pressed against the door he allowed himself to start thrusting his hips into his hold slightly, head falling back with a soft thunk as his lips parted and his voice came out haltingly on harsh pants. He wasn’t even going to try and stifle himself this time, Marco  _ knew _ what Jean was doing and Jean  _ knew _ what  _ Marco _ was doing and there was no way he was going to be able to hold his voice back for the whole thing so why even bother at all. 

“Nh… ah- fuck!” He gasped, concentrating on the tip for a moment and shuddering at the way his thick pre-cum made the motion slick. “ _ Fuck- o-oh god… _ !” Jean sped his hand up again, pressing the other one to the door to help support him as he fucked into his fist with increased desperation. It wasn’t long before Jean was choking down a whimper and a groan as he came hard, voice almost constant within his heaving breaths as gasping moans. Hand and the floor getting soaked in sticky strings of cum as he trembled and sank down the door to sit and catch his breath.

Marco wasn't sure if he heard the first few noises. But he was shortly very  _ very _ aware of the moans and curses coming from Jean. And it didn't seem like the other teen was even trying to keep himself quiet. Marco let slip a dizzy groan because that was almost too much as he stroked himself harder and faster. The thin old walls did almost nothing to stifle the sounds he was hearing. And Marco was so close, so so close. 

Bucking his hips up into his hand, Marco dropped the hand from his mouth to bring it down and fondle at his balls. He bit his lip hard to stifle the rainbow of pleasured sounds that wanted to escape him. But then he was fairly sure he heard the other climax and that was incredibly hot and it really  _ was _ too much. Marco's attempt to stifle the sound of his orgasm was blatantly futile. He barely had the time or presence of mind to tip his hips to the side, shooting his load across the bed with surprising force rather than upward where it would have just landed on him with gravity. Slumping flat against the bed on his back again, Marco panted heavily as he caught his breath, trying to compose—and clothe—himself quickly before letting himself catch his breath for a few more minutes. He grabbed and secured the weapons off the nightstand before he stood, opened the door, and went to wash his hands quickly before heading down the stairs once he was sure he could at least stand properly without his legs shaking. 

Before Jean had even let go of his own cock he heard a  _ sound _ from Marco’s direction and oh god that was amazing and he  _ knew _ the other boy was cumming, he couldn’t help giving his over-sensitive cock a few more strokes, making him shudder violently and whimper and writhe against the door but Marco sounded  _ so good _ . Jean didn’t move for a while, but then he heard Marco moving around and heading down the stairs and he decided he really should get going too.

Standing on trembling legs, Jean pulled the boxers back on and then the shirt, grabbing the too-big jeans he pulled them on with a grunt and set about threading the belt through the loops and pulling it tight so the jeans didn’t fall down. Satisfied that was secure, he attached the holsters and shoved the handguns into place before looking around the room. There was nothing else there that he was going to be taking with him so he left and went to the bathroom, washing his hands and face before joining Marco downstairs. When he got to the kitchen, he kept his gaze down, cheeks red because he  _ knew _ Marco had heard him and at the time it had been great but right now it was a little bit awkward because he was fucking  _ shy _ of all things. “H-hey.” He said after an awkward pause, grin wide and cheeky despite his embarrassment.

Marco had wandered his way into the kitchen by the time he heard Jean on the stairs. He found himself turning pink before even seeing the other boy. When he was grinned at, Marco smiled back, just a bit flirty and lopsided, cheeks still red but eyes bright and pleased as he let himself glance a bit more openly over the other's new and slightly baggy attire. "H-hey yourself…" How was he expected to act now? Marco wasn't sure. But he was at  _ least _ sure he could drop the effort of actively trying to not come across like he was coming on to Jean. Because well… he kind of was. And they were both fully aware of that now. And that was still a very weird notion. 

Worrying his lower lip with his teeth for a moment, Marco pushed off of where he'd been leaning on the counter. "S-so… we should probably get going? I mean… We could probably spare a few minutes to eat something quick but… we should get back on the road before too long." From what he remembered, the next town was a good distance off and while he was sure they'd reach it easily during the day, he wasn't sure how much past that point the car would last and whether they'd wind up having to find something new when they got there. If they could even find another working car or gas or anything like that. Oh he really didn't want to have to walk. 

Jean finally looked up when Marco greeted him and he openly smiled at the other boy, looking him over for a moment and tilting his head in approval. “Mn, yeah I’m kinda hungry so food would be good. Think I saw some potato chips in there, we can grab those I mean not great nutrition I know but mean we can eat as we drive?” Jean shrugged a little bit and went to the fridge grabbing the four bottles of water which were still cold because it had been closed all night. He groaned in appreciation and walked over to Marco, sliding closer than would usually be appropriate to hand one to him. “Water, sir.” He said in a false british accent before laughing and moving away to shove two of the bottles in his own pack again and take the last for himself. 

Jean drank half of it in one go and sighed at the way the chilled liquid woke him up even more. Satisfied with his drink Jean moved into the pantry again to find the big pack of chips and once he had he shoved those in the top of his pack too, with his half drunk water, and grabbed his hoodie from the back of the kitchen chair. “Read to leave this little piece of heaven then?”  _ With jizz on the carpet  _ he added internally, both guilty and amused.

Marco glanced away briefly when he saw how Jean was blatantly eyeing him up. That was going to take getting used to after he'd spent the last several days adamantly trying to convince himself he was just a horny perv who was reading too much into things. "Mh… Chips is something at least…" He nodded his agreement. Marco quirked a brow when Jean went to the fridge before his eyes widened slightly in surprise at the bottles of water and as he was handed one, the chill soaking into his hand. "I… huh… that was really good thinking." Marco opened the bottle he'd been given and took a few long gulps. 

The cold was refreshing and surprising running down his throat. In the last day, he'd had two hot meals and a long cold drink. Marco was decently sure he'd eaten better—if not health-wise then psychologically—in the last day than he had in the few weeks previous. He recapped his water and stretched when Jean asked if he was ready to go. A slight wistful sigh escaped him at the idea of leaving their tiny temporary patch of normalcy but he nodded regardless. "Yeah…" He headed for the door, stooping to shoulder his backpack and grunting slightly at the weight. Unlocking and open the door, Marco stepped out into the chilled morning air with a slight shiver. He hurried to open the car and toss his backpack into it before dropping himself into the driver's seat and starting the engine. It gave a slight bit of protest from having been started improperly so many times but it thankfully  _ did _ start. They'd definitely need to find another car. 

Jean beamed at the praise Marco gave him about putting the bottles in the fridge, truthfully he felt pretty useless in all of the things they’d done so far so that small bit of appreciation lifted his mood even further. “Kay then.” Jean said as Marco opened the door and the chill of the morning hit him, Jean sighed and then followed Marco to the car, shoving the pack in the back but pulling the chips and his drink out of it before climbing into his seat with them. “I swear to god we need to find a bigger car… and a mattress, like just  _ something _ more comfortable to sleep on because after last night i’m going to cry at bedtime now.”

Jean buckled up and popped open the chips, grabbing a couple and eating them before putting the bag between the front seats in the area of the cupholders. “I mean I guess we can still…uh… I mean… If it’s ok… Like… hug n stuff…”  _ Such a smooth talker, Jean _ . He mocked himself inwardly and looked out of his window to hide his expression, puffing his cheeks out before blowing the air from his mouth in a sigh.

Marco snorted slightly at Jean's over-dramatic attitude. Yeah, a bed had been amazing. But he'd sleep on a rock if it was a rock away from the threat of being ripped apart or killed in his sleep. Still, Jean had a point. "Mnh… yeah… ' _ Bedtime _ ' though? Really?" A light smirk danced across Marco's features as he buckled himself in and dropped his half-empty water into the cup holder. 

Hand on the gearshift, Marco paused for a moment at Jean's words about 'hugging and stuff'. He pushed himself through it, putting the car in gear and backing up to turn around and pull them back onto the broken-down road. "Well… I definitely hope so… I mean… That was… really nice." He couldn't help biting his lower lip and grinning around it. "But y'know… the kissing wasn't half bad either." Marco still felt stuck in that murky 'what's okay and what's not' sort of state. But how was someone even expected to define things like this anymore? It wasn't like they could be 'dating'. He didn't think 'oh hey let's hide out in this abandoned building for the night trying to not die' was Jean's idea of romantic but it certainly wasn't Marco's. But he also wasn't too keen on just some kind of casual 'when we're stressed out or scared we make out'. And this was all too complicated for so soon after waking up and Marco's brain couldn't handle it. So he kept quiet against the questions raging in his mind, opting to derail the topic instead. "You uh… wanna flip on some music or something?" 

“Sh-shut up that’s what it  _ is _ .” Jean mock pouted at the teasing but he enjoyed it really, to an extent. Even though he’d always just called it that and wasn’t sure what else to say when referring to it. He shrugged a shoulder before Marco mentioned kissing and Jean subconsciously licked his lips. “Ah… yeah that was… that was real nice…” Jean almost blurted something about Marco’s lips being really soft but then caught himself because that was a dumb and embarrassing thing to say. Gritting his teeth and trying to get his mind on more practical matters Jean nodded when Marco mentioned the music.

“Yeah, yea that CD’s still in there.” Jean said, thankful for the distraction because otherwise he’d think about what he and Marco ‘were’ like… what was this thing? But no, he’d listen to cheesy old music and probably sing dramatically again to make the other boy laugh because his laugh was adorable. Jean flipped the CD player on and it was silent for a moment before the track started to play, ‘What is Love’ by Haddaway coming through the speakers and Jean choked on a snort and a laugh, covering his mouth as he coughed for a moment. 

Marco grinned a bit wider when Jean agreed with him, daring to hope that meant he'd get to do at least a bit more of that. Or more. But that was too much to think about at the moment. He couldn't let himself think about something like things… intensifying between them when they didn't even know what the next shelter they would find would be. No, it was better to just take things as they came. 

When the music started playing Marco choked a bit as well, gawking at the machine as if it had personally offended him with its existence. That was just… terrible. Of all the absurd things to start playing. "Oh my god… I… Wow, this is  _ really _ a cheesy mix…" He pinched at the bridge of his nose with one hand as he laughed. It was too perfect and too terrible and just… entirely wrong. And yet Marco couldn't stop himself from humming along under his breath because it was just one of those songs. 

“I-it really is…” Jean was quiet for a moment before continuing because Marco was laughing and it was  _ cute _ . “And I love it.” He grinned and started to sing along—a little bit badly—to the lyrics as Marco began to hum. When the song finished Jean grabbed his water and took a few gulps of it and then sighing, slipping down in his seat as the next song played. 

They drove like that for what seemed like hours—and it probably was—before any signs of life… or rather previous life, came into view. A cityscape filled the horizon and Jean felt his stomach drop at the expanse of it.

It was the biggest one they had come across yet and it didn’t sit well with him, smile falling from his features slowly the closer they god and his posture stiffening. A big city meant more people who had probably been Immune, which meant more people that probably wanted to kill him on sight. But it also meant more Ferals and Jean started to chew his thumbnail without realising, knee bouncing up and down rapidly with nervous energy. “I don’t… that looks really ominous to me…” Jean wanted to ask to just go around it, just not stop here, but the next place was miles away and going around would use up all their gas anyway so they either went through or around and dumped the car and walked however far. 

Marco found the drive comfortable with Jean at his side. In another world, another life, it could have been a cheesy and normal road trip. But this wasn't that life. This was survival in a world that was well over half dead. And as the city came into view, he felt the dread rising in his gut. That was… big. And big meant people and people meant danger. From Ferals and Immunes alike. Sure  _ Marco _ might not face any threat from those who were Immune like him but he'd  _ seen _ what they did to people like Jean and the thought of Jean getting hurt or  _ worse _ made him feel physically ill. 

Without looking, Marco reached a hand out to set it on Jean's bouncing knee in a quiet gesture. "I know…" He eyeballed the gas gauge. No, there was no way they'd be getting  _ around _ the city. "But we have to… It'll be okay… We'll watch each other's backs, right? Just like everywhere we've been so far. No different. We just have to get through it quick and then we'll find another car and we'll keep going. And it's going to be fine." Marco was proud of himself for how much more confident his words sounded than how he felt. His heart hammered in his chest as the city loomed closer and  _ taller _ and he knew they'd have to get out and walk sooner rather than later if they didn't want to attract unwanted attention. Reluctantly, he stopped the car, letting out an uneasy breath but tossing Jean a flawless and well-practised smile regardless in an odd sort of dissonance. "So… let's just get going and get this over with." 

The hand on his leg made it stop bouncing immediately but Jean still chewed his thumbnail until it hurt and he tasted blood. “Y-yeah… I got your back…” Jean said, voice quiet and tremulous as he answered. He really wasn’t made out for this shit, he’d been  _ sort of _ ok before he knew about Immunes being paranoid and  _ killing _ people like him. Ferals were brain damaged and violent but they didn’t  _ plot _ things and set traps like normal people could… would. Jean tried really hard to nod and smile at Marco’s reassuring words but he couldn’t muster it and instead his breath hitched as Marco stopped the car and he felt like he was going to be sick and start crying all at once. “I… I swear I’m becoming more of a pussy the more days that pass.” Jean gave a strained, self-depreciating laugh before pressing the CD eject and putting it back in the case. 

It was frivolous to bring the CDs along, he  _ knew _ it was but he needed it. That normality that  _ music _ was something  _ normal _ to cling onto in a world where nothing would ever be normal in the old sense ever again. At least not in his lifetime. Jean unbuckled and opened his door, slipping out of the car and moving to the back to grab his pack almost mechanically. When that was in place Jean grabbed his beanie and pulled that on yanking his hood up for good measure as he slung the rifle strap over his shoulder and body diagonally. He debated for a moment before folding the blanket and rolling it a bit, shoving it between the backpack and the small of his back and pulling either end through the straps to hold it in place. Looking around a bit he decided he had everything he needed and shoved his hands into his pockets to hide the way they trembled.  

Marco sighed at the hitch in Jean's breath, giving a sympathetic look to the other teen for a moment. When Jean actually stopped to get the CD, Marco rolled his eyes but smiled more genuinely. He was glad that he wasn't the only one clinging on to whatever shards of normalcy and what had been 'before' he could find. And a few little discs wouldn't hurt, wasn't much extra weight, but it was worth its weight in gold for just that precious hint of okay-ness it could give. 

Getting out of the car, Marco grabbed his jacket, backpack, and water bottle. Slipping on his jacket and checking the bow was securely clipped to the bag, he stuffed the bottle in his backpack and shrugged that onto his shoulders before slinging the quiver of arrows on as well. He checked to make sure that he'd put everything back in his bag and there was nothing of 'theirs' left in the car as Jean rolled up the blanket. Satisfied, he moved around the car to Jean's side, eyeing up the tension in his body. 

"Hey…" On an impulse, Marco turned to face the other boy more properly and tugged at the front of his sweatshirt, pulling him into a brief but firm kiss before pulling back. "You got this. It's gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine." It was the best reassurance he could give and he only hoped it helped in some way. Marco turned to start walking, unclipping the strap holding at least the gun on his right side in place. Just in case. His ears and eyes were tuned for any movement or sound as they started to pass buildings, on-guard as always but even more than usual with the additional threat of population density. 

Jean watched Marco as he moved to stand in-front of him and then gasped as he was tugged by the front of his sweater into a firm kiss that made his breath hitch even though it was brief. Jean felt his cheeks pink up a bit despite his dread and he pressed a hand to Marco’s bicep and squeezed. “Thanks, Marco…” He smiled, small and scared but genuine. 

As Marco began walking Jean followed, unclipping both holsters and keeping his hands resting on the butt of his guns with the safety still on because he didn’t fancy shooting himself in the leg. Even the small buildings seemed far too tall and ominous to Jean and he shrunk in on himself a bit and crouched slightly without realising he was even doing it. A noise ot his left had him jolting and gripping his gun and turning but it was a fucking  _ cat _ darting away from them and Jean felt stupid, heart hammering in his chest. Jean’s hand relaxed just a fraction on his gun and he stumbled slightly as he sped up to get closer to Marco’s back, probably a little too close but fuck that whole ‘macho’ shit Jean was on the verge of pissing his pants.

Marco jumped a bit at the noise, spinning to see what it was but not reacting as drastically as Jean had. Spotting the cat, he relaxed again, adrenaline still spiking slightly as his heart beat harder. He could see how close Jean had gotten to him by their shadows cast out to the side and a bit in front of them. Marco rolled his eyes slightly, gesturing behind him and speaking quietly. "C'mon, why don't you walk next to me instead…?" 

Jean eyed Marco for a moment when the other boy said he should walk next to him instead of behind him, then he looked behind them and around them before chewing on his lip and nodding. Jean fell into step beside Marco, hands still poised above the guns at his thighs and fingers twitching. “Thanks…” He said quietly, looking everywhere  _ but _ at Marco now because if he looked at the freckled teen he wasn’t sure he’d want to look away again and they had to keep an eye on their surroundings. 

The road was wide although there were cars strewn about it precariously like a child's playset. Clearly this city had had time to panic and Marco didn't hold much hope for finding supplies but they'd probably wind up checking anyway. Even if it wasn't likely, it was worth a shot. But for the meantime, he just focused on walking. Marco stopped a few times at noises but they invariably turned out to be nothing. Still, he didn't let his guard down as they continued on. By the time they were approaching their 'two hours to sunset' window, his muscles hurt and he felt fatigued and exhausted from his heart spiking so many times in so short a time. "We should… we should find somewhere for the night…" He'd underestimated the size of the city, he could tell. It would take them days to cross this mess. Marco eyeballed the office buildings on either side of them. "We could try to find an office…?" The idea of being holed up in one room in a building that was potentially infested with danger was terrifying. But it was better than winding up outside after dark. And at least the office doors should have sturdy locks. 

The heavy bags and weapons meant progress was slow and Jean was sweating by the time Marco mentioned finding somewhere to rest for the night. “An office…?” Jean said, lifting a brow and looking up around them. “Like top floor sort of thing?” He could see both the plus and minus sides of that but there wasn’t really anywhere he’d feel  _ safe _ in this deep into such a dense city. “Y-yeah. Sure sounds good.” Jean stumbled on a stray brick and caught himself by grabbing Marco’s arm before he actually fell. He blushed and looked around them to make sure the noise didn’t cause any movement from anywhere and then he sighed and whispered. 

“Sorry…feel like a fumbling idiot right now.” Jean licked his lips. “I swear I’ll get better I’m useless like this right now.” Jean’s eyes roved the fronts of the buildings as they moved before settling on one a few feet in-front of them. The front was solid with normal sized windows shuttered with blinds, unlike a lot of places that seemed to have glass façades on the lowest floor—mostly smashed. Pointing, Jean turned to look at Marco. “What about that? SCS Computing?”

Marco couldn't help jumping slightly at the sudden grip to his arm. But he registered that it was just Jean quickly enough and relaxed again, turning his head slightly to make sure the other boy was okay. He shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "You're not useless. You should just be more careful is all." The last thing either of them needed was to wind up taking a tumble and end up scraped and bloody. He had  _ some _ first aid supplies, enough for a little scrape or bruise, but he made an internal note to pick up more actual  _ gauze _ and useful medical and first aid things the next time they found a pharmacy or drugstore.

Following the line of where Jean was pointing, Marco took in the building. It didn't have a glass storefront like most of them. And it seemed to be an older, shorter building of only about eight floors and narrow from side to side. Which, as far as Marco was concerned, was a fantastic thing. An older building meant thicker doors and probably only one door in and out of each area. And none of that 'glass walls between offices' nonsense if they were lucky. "Looks like tonight's camp to me…" Nodding, Marco headed for the building in question, patting his pockets to be sure he had the little lock pick set. He tried the door. Locked. That was a good sign as far as he was concerned; less likely anyone would be inside. 

Glancing around to be sure there was no one coming towards them, Marco knelt and pulled the kit out. It didn't take him nearly as long as it had at the farmhouse. In a matter of minutes, the door was clicking and Marco stood, shoving the kit away in favour of drawing the gun from his side. "Ready?" He glanced at Jean before opening the door, clearing the entryway before stepping inside the dimly-lit small lobby with a small reception or security desk, an elevator to one side, and the emergency fire stairs to the other. Hesitating, Marco turned to close and lock the door behind them. This would be the dangerous part. They were locked in with anything they might find inside. But it was better than even considering having to come back down to lock it once they'd cleared the place. "O-okay… Here we go…" Marco ignored the tremor in his elbows as he headed for the door to the stairs. 

Jean nodded when Marco agreed about the building being a good place to settle for the night. They approached and Marco found the door locked, Jean watched him get out his lock picking set and he turned his back to the other man, standing close with a gun drawn and watching their surroundings whilst Marco worked. Thankfully it took less time than before and nothing had jumped out at them, Jean entered the building cautiously and swallowed thickly when Marco locked them inside. He hoped no one had been locked in with them, mostly Immunes… because they could ambush, and trap and depending on their mindset torture and… Jean really needed to stop letting his negative thoughts circle so easily.

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Jean held his gun up shakily and followed Marco to the stairs. He walked sideways up them behind the other boy, gun pointed down even though the lobby had seemed clear, there was no way he was letting Marco get attacked from behind. Jean may feel useless but he was still going to try his best. They reached the first landing and the door into the office space, Jean could see through the slim window on one side of the door that it was one large room with desks and computers and office chairs but no partitions. So unless someone was hiding under a desk it  _ seemed _ clear, still… they should check. “You wanna… go first or should I?” He whispered, pressing close to Marco from behind so he could keep his voice as quiet as possible.

Marco clenched his jaw when they reached the landing, looking into the space. It did  _ seem _ empty… Taking a deep breath, Marco shook his head slightly before responding equally quietly. "I'll go first. You go first next floor." He had the bravery—insanity?—to go first now and he knew once he did he'd feel more confident as they went on. He had this. He had the training. He had the aim. His reaction times were quick. He could do this. There wasn't even going to be anyone there. But if there was, he'd be fine. 

After reassuring himself, Marco pulled the door open, clearing the room once before pinning himself against the wall. He moved around the outside edge of the room, kicking a few chairs to startle or stir up anything that was lurking. But there was nothing. Marco finished his cursory sweep of the room before heading back to the doorway, closing it behind them and turning to go up another level. "O-okay… You're up next…" 

“K-kay…” Jean said with a nod as Marco pulled the door open and went inside. Jean followed, foot in the door to stop it closing completely as he kept his eyes flicking between the hallway and the room—where Marco was. His heart felt like it was in his throat and he felt a bit sick, he also thought he might need to pee but that was more ‘I’m nervous as fuck’ than actual  _ need _ right now. He hoped the floor the ended up on at least had toilets, even without the running water to flush it was better than peeing in a bottle or a corner. 

If this were any other situation, or a game, Jean would have found Marco moving around so seemingly confidently, gun in hand and holsters strapped tight extremely  _ hot _ . But right now it was a fleeting thought in a fraction of a second because he was on high alert for actual danger. When Marco came back over, they exited the room and Jean nodded again before heading up the stairs first on legs that felt like jello. But it was  _ okay _ , Marco had his back and Jean had guns even though he wasn’t that confident he’d be able to hit his mark he still knew how to use them at least. On the next level Jean looked behind him momentarily before slipping into the room much like the first although along the back wall there were a row of tables with a coffee machine and rotting platters for sandwiches. 

Jean half held his breath as he moved around the room, ducking to look under desks and kicking chairs like Marco had done but all that was there were a family of rats that made Jean scrunch his nose and back away. At least he hadn’t screamed or jumped in surprise that time. Jean came out of the room and sagged, pressing a hand to his forehead and sighing. “I… I’m gonna end up with an aneurysm at this rate ugh.” He groaned and nodded that it was fine for them to continue checking the next floors.

Marco kept watch by the door, half in and half out with his gun aimed at the stairwell. He grimaced slightly at the rotted food, glad he didn't have to actually go  _ near _ it. When Jean came back to his side, Marco nodded his agreement to the comment. "Or worse, we get used to it and let our guards down and wind up dead. I think I'll take my chances with the perpetual state of panic…" He almost  _ wished _ something would wind up coming at them after so many days of panicking over nothing. The threat was starting to seem less and less 'real' each day and more theoretical. And that was  _ dangerous _ . Marco couldn't let himself get complacent like that. 

When they'd finished checking the rest of the floors—including the bathrooms on the fourth and eighth floors—Marco breathed a sigh of relief. The top floor had what seemed like they were probably corporate offices against the back wall. Which was as good of a place as any to stop for the night. If they found a way to secure the fire door, they'd be able to have three locked doors between them and any threats. Otherwise, they'd at least have two once they locked the office door. And the fire doors weren't exactly  _ quiet _ when they opened, groaning metallic, so it was an additional alert. "So uhm… one of those?" He gestured at the three large offices on the far wall. It was getting very dark very fast and he wanted to be done. 

By the time they had made it through all of the rooms Jean felt even more exhausted and his legs ached from how tense they were and how many stairs they’d climbed slowly. Inside the upper floor Jean looked around and pressed a hand against the door. “Y-Yeah… the far one next to the door to the bathrooms seems good uh… Help me move some desks n shit to block this one?” He asked, thumb pointing at the door to the stairwell. Anyone wanting to get in would make a lot of noise trying to push open a heavy door  _ plus _ a pile of desks and Jean would just feel safer.

Jean waited a moment longer before grabbing the edge of a desk and yanking it across the space to the door, grunting with effort and not bothering to remove the screen, desktop computer, mouse, keyboard or even coffee cup that were on its surface. He moved around it and pressed his butt and hands against the edge opposite the door, feet slipping on the thin nylon carpet as he pushed it into place with a dull thud. He looked at it for a moment before looking back at the other desks and then at Marco. Clearing the top and stacking another desk—upside down—on-top of it seemed like the best option. “Can you drag another desk over? Think we should stack it on this one.” He motioned at the desk he’d already moved and started to pull the contents off of it, shoving them on the floor beneath because they were at least a little bit of added  _ something _ between them and the hallway.

Marco could only stare as Jean started dragging the desk across the floor. It seemed a bit… excessive. Particularly given how empty the city had seemed up to that point. A furrow settled onto his brow. "That… I mean… Fuck, sure, okay, why not." Marco shrugged. It couldn't hurt. He holstered his gun before he slipped off his backpack and quiver to free himself of the weight. 

Clearing the surface of another desk  _ first _ because he wasn't in any mood for having his toes crushed by a toppling computer screen, Marco dragged the desk over. From how the difference between how Jean had dragged the desk to how he had, he found himself idly noting the dissonance between their strengths. Jean was mostly lower body strength while Marco was upper. Desk in place, he adjusted himself to firmly grip at one end of it. "Help me flip this thing at least?" 

Jean finished shoving the screen under the desk by the time Marco had come over with the other one and he nodded. “As if I’d make you lift it and flip it on your own.” Jean snorted softly, grabbing the other end and helping Maro lift and twist the piece of furniture until it was upside down and in place on top of the other desk and almost completely blocking the doorway from floor to ceiling. Satisfied and feeling a fraction safer Jean squinted in the dim light of the room as evening quickly approached. “K-kay…”

Jean went into the chosen office space—there was a fucking  _ couch _ … he was so making the most of that even if it  _ was _ leather and his face was likely to stick to it like skin always seemed to when it was warm. Still, Jean took off his rifle and backpack, setting them down in the corner before heaving to the bathroom to pee and wash before it got too much darker. 

"Hey, y'never know…" Marco shrugged in response to the snort. He looked at the desk-stack once it was done, carefully pushing at it. Satisfied that it wasn't going anywhere, Marco hauled his things into their makeshift accommodations for the night. He put his things next to Jean's and busied himself sorting through his bag while Jean was gone. Marco pulled out two cans of chicken soup and a miraculously only-half-squashed roll of crackers. He set about opening both cans and was done by the time Jean came back. 

A few minutes later, Jean at least had an empty bladder and clean face and hands, he pulled off his holsters and put them on the floor directly next to the couch within easy reach as he grabbed the blanket and eyed the couch and then Marco. Jean chewed his lip before looking at his feet. “Uh… you wanna… share the couch? I-I mean we can lie down but someone… I mean we’d need to like… someone would need to be on the bottom?” That sounded perverse even if the thought of cuddling up to Marco again was heavenly.

Marco blushed slightly at how blatantly  _ lewd _ Jean's suggestion sounded even though he knew it wasn't meant to be. He shrugged and offered out one of the cans while patting the floor beside him questioningly. "I… sure. I don't mind that…" Sleeping with Jean's warmth up against him  _ on purpose _ again wasn't something he was going to complain about. Not at all. "Eat first though, before it gets dark. We're gonna be on foot all day tomorrow so we'll need the energy." Marco worked on ripping open the cracker package and dividing the non-powdered crackers into two piles. Debating with himself, Marco decided it would be better to pee first as well so they could lock the office door. He scrambled to his feet, giving a small 'be right back' before ducking off to the bathroom. That done and with a safely empty bladder, Marco came back into the room a few minutes later, closing and locking the door behind him before sitting to finish his makeshift meal. "So uhm… Who gets to be the top—Oh god that sounds wrong. I mean… like… you know what I mean."  

Jean took the can of offered food before looking at the space Marco patted, conflicted. “As much as being close to you is awesome I think I’m gonna sit on the actual couch.” He poked his tongue out cheekily before sitting down with his food, a little less on edge now they were holed up in the corner of a ‘secured’ building. Jean took the crackers and then smiled, watching Marco leave and allowing himself a guilty stare at the other boy's ass before he started to eat his crackers and soup. Truthfully Jean hated crackers, but food was food and he was  _ hungry _ so he’d finished those by the time Marco got back into the room.

“Hehe.” Jean almost giggled at Marco’s comment and then fumbling. “You be ‘on top’…” He gave Marco a mock shy look, lifting his eyebrows suggestively before sagging back with a smirk. “I’m a big spoon kinda guy.” Jean tipped his head back and drank the remainder of his soup in one go before moving to put the can on the desk and getting some water for a drink. Full up with food and water Jean flopped back down onto the couch and toed his shoes off at least, folding his hands across his stomach and letting his feet rest on the opposite arm rest to his head. “Well… whenever you’re ready… sunshine.” Jean grinned but oh god he was flailing inside because he was doing that really lame sort of goofy flirting thing.

Marco was content to sit on the floor as he ate his food quickly. He focused on trying to not linger on the cold blandness of the taste in comparison to how they'd eaten the night before. He had never realized how much he appreciated  _ stoves _ until all this had happened. He had been working on swallowing a hurried gulp of soup when Jean responded and told him to be at the top of their makeshift—and  _ entirely _ not explicit—pile. He choked slightly, swallowing quickly and grimacing at the feel of the large chunks in his throat. 

Digging out his water quickly, Marco let out a shaky breath and an indignant laugh. "Mhm…  _ clearly _ big spoon material…" Internally he couldn't help snarking that the guy who'd crawled into  _ his _ bed in the middle of the night didn't exactly seem to  _ act _ that way. But he wisely chose to stifle himself to just his vague disbelieving retort. He didn't want to make Jean feel bad about that, after all. Not when it had led to other much nicer things. Marco's cheeks flared with heat at the absurd flirty comment and he chose to focus on downing the rest of his soup quickly before standing and putting his can on the desk as well. 

Slipping his guns and knife from their secured spots, Marco put them with Jean's before standing awkwardly by the couch for a moment. Even with the two guys he'd dated in the past there really hadn't been much—or any, really—of the whole… cuddling thing. Neither of them had been out and it meant that they had to be more… subtle about things anywhere except Marco's house. He had to admit he  _ really _ liked being close to Jean but the mechanics of things like this were still… alien. With a noise that was more frustrated at himself than anything, Marco slipped off his shoes before deciding to just go for it as best as he could. It took a bit of maneuvering on the narrow couch but eventually he wound up with his head on Jean's shoulder, partly nestled between the other teen and the couch and partly half-atop him. "I… this isn't… too uncomfortable for you? I could just… crash on the floor." Marco worried at his lip slightly, finding the position wound up making it incredibly easy to listen to the beat of Jean's heart. 

Marco’s awkwardness was apparent and Jean started to feel more and more shy the longer the other boy took to decide to move. When he did, Jean muffled a soft noise of embarrassment but they managed to find a comfortable position and Jean wrapped his arms securely around Marco’s chest. The weight on-top of him was more than he was used to but it was  _ nice _ and  _ warm _ and Marco just felt safe. So when they other boy asked if he was uncomfortable and suggested sleeping on the floor Jean snorted and shifted until he could wrap both of his legs around Marco’s. Now effectively ‘koala’ clinging to the other teen, Jean grinned. “No way you’re going anywhere this is too damn comfy.” Jean’s face was hot with a blush but he felt almost giddy, the stressful adrenaline fuelled day a stark contrast to this small pocket of calm and comfort. 

Marco gave a surprised sort of squawk when Jean shifted and wrapped his legs around him. He couldn't help ducking his face into the other boy's shoulder a bit as a result. A slight embarrassed noise escaped him at Jean's words but he nodded. It  _ was _ comfy. And Jean's heart seemed to be racing just a bit. And Marco felt a thrill at being likely partly responsible for that. "Mmh… kay then…" 

Jean was silent for a short while, still holding onto Marco tightly and looking at the ceiling before dipping his head to look at the other boy the best he could. “Marco… can I… I mean… can I kiss you?” He whispered, unsure if there was a boundary for  _ that _ back in place now that he wasn’t a sobbing mess from a nightmare. 

At the sound of his name, Marco shifted himself a bit to look at Jean's face. The question took him by surprise and he blushed. On the one hand… It meant Jean  _ wanted _ to kiss him. Outside of the context of just… him freaking out. On the other hand… They really both needed to figure out where they stood with this… whatever it was. Still, it was oddly reassuring to know that Jean didn't have any idea either. The small smile that had been on his face grew a bit wider. "Of course…" He bit his lip around his smile for a brief hesitant moment before adding to his words as his face got a bit hotter. "Whenever you want." Assuming of course they weren't actively working on the whole not dying thing at the time, but he thought that went without saying. 

When Marco moved to look at him, Jean looked right back at the other boy even though he felt like he was going to die of embarrassment. But then Marco said ‘ _ of course _ ’ and Jean’s stomach did a little flip flop, the way Marco bit his own lip drawing Jean’s gaze downwards to watch. The ‘whenever you want’ comment was unexpected but very  _ very  _ welcome information and Jean hummed happily even if he didn’t know what they were he knew  _ this _ was good. He briefly considered thanking the other boy but that was just _ odd _ so instead he pressed the tip of his nose against the tip of Marco’s. “Sounds good…” 

Then Jean closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Marco’s and melted into the sensation with a soft groan. Even if his body ached and his head hurt, even if he was stressed and scared and uncomfortable—although granted this was way better than the car had been—kissing and  _ holding _ Marco made everything seem a little bit better. It weirdly grounded Jean and it  _ definitely _ relaxed him as he felt the tension in his shoulders and back slowly seeping away as he moved his lips against Marco’s, slow and gentle.

Marco couldn't help a miniscule breathless laugh at Jean's words when he leaned in. But then the other boy's lips were on his and Marco sighed at the contact. The  _ groan _ Jean let out, although soft, shot through the freckled teen's body like electricity. He shifted a bit to be sure there wouldn't be any awkward  _ waking _ boners pressed against Jean's body. It was one thing when they were asleep but actively popping a stiffy against him was just too much to even think about. At least… yet. 

Still, Marco couldn't resist pressing into the kiss as his lips massaged against Jean's. It was slow and almost lazy in how relaxed the kiss was, a sharp contrast to the way Marco's heart hammered against his chest in excited bursts. He moved to grip at the fabric over Jean's chest tightly, pressing firmer against him for a moment before pulling back a bit with a breathless smile. He wanted to keep going, he  _ really _ did. But he didn't think he could resist trying to deepen the kiss. Which if Jean was as affection-starved as he was would only spiral into other things. Not that he didn't want that too. But just… not yet. Not before he even knew what—if anything—this was. 

Jean lost himself in the kiss, chaste though it was it was still more than he’d even thought he’d get from anyone from now on. Not that he was kissing Marco because he was the ‘only one’, no, Jean was certain he’d feel the same if he got to know Marco in their old lives too. He was both confident and shy, skilled and smart and he had a mischievous side that Jean was still shocked by but wholeheartedly approved of. Not only that but Jean had always found Marco really quite attractive, he just didn’t linger on the looks before. 

The increased grip at his chest had Jean letting out a sigh and then Marco pulled back and smiled at him and Jean could do nothing but smile back in the darkness of the room. “We should sleep… it’s been a really exhausting day.” His voice sounded too loud and too quiet all at once but Jean pressed another quick kiss to Marco’s mouth, then another to his cheek before settling back into a slightly less smothering hug. He let his legs relax and drop back down to either side of the other boy’s and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep, the space was too strange and felt way more open than the farmhouse had. Still, he’d try and Marco didn’t need to know he was inwardly struggling right now.

Marco hummed his agreement on a quiet breath. He smiled again at the quick kisses with a slight chuckle. He shifted himself again slightly to be able to rest his head on Jean's shoulder, closer to his chest now than before. Jean was comfortably warm against him and Marco let himself relax a bit, just listening to the other boy's breathing and steady heart for a long few moments. This was nice. Whatever it was. 

Glancing up again briefly, Marco was already half asleep in the darkness but he felt like he just  _ couldn't _ sleep yet. He gnawed at his lip for a moment. He leaned up, pressing a light and barely-there kiss to the pale patch he could see on Jean's skin. "…I'm glad you came with me…" The admission was barely a quiet whisper. He wasn't even sure if Jean was still awake or would hear him or anything. But he just felt he needed to get it out there into the universe or whatever else rather than keeping it in his head. Marco ducked his head back down against Jean's chest quickly, letting himself indulge in a light nuzzling motion as he settled himself in. With at least that one admission off his chest, Marco fell asleep quickly after that. 

Jean smiled and blushed at Marco’s words, tightening his arms around the other boy in response for a moment. “Yeah… me too.” He whispered back, turning his face so he could press a kiss against the side of Marco’s head before he fell into silence and the other boy slept. Jean lay motionless for a while before letting himself carefully stroke Marco’s back through his clothes in a light, lazy motion. It didn’t seem to wake the other boy and it kept Jean’s mind from wandering to less pleasant thoughts or memories that he’d rather avoid as much as possible. Still, eventually his arm got tired and he settled for just holding Marco and closing his eyes, praying and hoping that sleep would come to him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing on their journey, Jean succumbs to his exhaustion. The boys stumble across unexpected horrors. But also find time to dwell in accidental but very welcome joys. Maybe a little respite wouldn't hurt.

By the time the morning's light was filtering into the room through the half closed blinds Jean groaned and opened his eyes to glare at the windows as if they had personally offended him. As he’d thought, sleep hadn’t come to him and he was now exhausted to a level he wasn’t even aware he could feel when he wasn’t half dying from a killer virus. He felt stiff from not moving all night but he also felt elated that Marco was still wrapped in his arms, warm and solid and alive. Turning his head, Jean pressed a kiss to Marco’s head and the nuzzled the area gently. “Hey… S'time to get up Marco.” He whispered, voice hoarse even though he hadn’t even slept.

Marco slept soundly, even with the unusual position, the warmth and reassurance of having another person close to him still bizarre but fantastic. He gave a small sleepy groan at the nuzzling and the quiet words, nuzzling in closer to Jean's chest in his mostly-asleep state. "Mgh…? Morning…?" It was daytime already? Marco had to admit that one of the things he found really irksome was how they were constrained to waking up early and sleeping early. He'd never been much of a morning person, always struggling to wake up for early activities and things. At this point he'd gotten mostly used to it, but he still craved to be able to just sleep in. 

Still, Marco shifted himself slightly, pawing at his eyes with the side of his hand and blinking them open blearily. It was definitely sunlight seeping through the windows. He sighed resignedly. "Mnh… mmkay…" Marco tipped his head up to kiss at Jean's jaw again briefly before clambering carefully off of him. He was still a bit uncoordinated and groggy and staggered a bit when he stood but he still managed to safely secure his weapons before stretching with a yawn. He blinked at Jean, tilting his head with a frown. Judging from the dark rings under Jean's eyes, Marco wondered if he'd slept. He hoped it wasn't because of how they'd been curled up. If he'd kept Jean up… 

"You look awful." He blinked at his own blunt words and how that could sound  _ really _ bad and not  _ at all _ like what he was trying to say, hurrying to clarify. "Awful as in like… exhausted… Not like… usually looking bad. You're definitely far from that." Marco blushed. He could cut out his tongue for flapping too much. He couldn't have stopped after exhausted? "…I'm still too asleep so I'm just going to be quiet. Let's go." 

“Mhm… Mornin’ already.” Jean said softly, finding Marco’s sleepy words endearing and the way he pawed at his eyes so fucking cute. The kiss to his jaw made him smile and then the way Marco stumbled off of him just made Jean chuckle as he sat up and arched his back in a long stretch, groaning as the muscles in his back protested. Jean was rubbing at his own eyes when Marco’s comment registered and he lifted a brow. “Gee thanks.” He said, jokingly because he  _ knew _ what Marco must mean, the other boy’s correction making that clear moments later. Still, the blush that bloomed made Jean duck his head a bit and shrug, smiling despite how tired he was. 

“I couldn’t really sleep, too anxious I guess. Nothing to do with our positions… that was actually the only thing stopping me from wigging out completely.” He said honest and openly as he stood. Jean attached his guns in their holsters again, grabbed some water for each of them from his pack and handed one to Marco before pulling the pack on and taking a drink. “I’ll be ok.” He said, hoping his words proved true because honestly? He was finding it pretty hard to be upright as it was. “Let’s go Mr Eloquence.” Jean teased, brushing a hand over Marco’s bicep as he passed the other boy and grabbed the blanket they hadn’t ended up using, rolling it up and shoving it back in place at the small of his back before he sat to pull on his shoes. Ready as he would ever be Jean went out into the main area and leaned against one end of the desks, putting his entire weight against them and grunting with effort as he shoved them out of the way enough for he and Marco to exit.

"Mnh… Okay…" Marco's tone showed he wasn't entirely convinced as he fidgeted. If Jean had been uncomfortable and couldn't sleep because of it and then got hurt or something because he was too tired to focus and it was  _ Marco's _ fault… Marco shook his head to snap himself out of his worries. He couldn't let himself catastrophise like that. And Jean did say it actually  _ helped _ somehow… Marco's chest gave a slight flip at the idea. 

Blushing at the teasing, Marco tried to stifle a small shiver at the gentle contact to his arm. He put his shoes back on while Jean was rolling up the blanket before cracking open the water he'd been handed and taking a few long sips. He pulled his backpack back on as well as the quiver, clipping and securing the backpack for another long day of walking. 

After one quick check to be sure he had everything, Marco headed back out into the main area just as Jean managed to get the desks to move. "You could've waited for me to help with that you know…" It seemed like Jean had a bad habit of just wanting to get things over and done with without asking for help and Marco was increasingly convinced it was going to get the white-haired teen hurt sooner or later. Still, what was done was done for the moment and Marco pulled his gun just in case as he moved to push open the door and head into the stairwell. 

“I-I’m not a pussy I can do it.” Jean said, feeling oddly defensive because of how many times he’d been called such in school by his circle of friends. Just because Jean was skinny, he’d gotten into the habit of constantly trying to prove himself—physically. He didn’t  _ need _ to with Marco but it was automatic still. 

Marco snorted lightly at Jean's defensiveness. It was pretty obvious it was a well-practised defense mechanism. And Marco couldn't resist shattering it as best as he could. "Should hope not. Being a dick is definitely much more natural on you. And much more attractive to me." He let the two-toned statement linger with a teasing lilt to his tone as he wandered down the stairs. 

The stairwell was as quiet as the day before and Jean cautiously walked down a few steps before ducking to look and make sure they were still alone. Satisfied he moved lower and continued the trend of checking until they reached the ground floor and the locked door between them and the street. “Well, this is it. Again.” Jean sighed, he wasn’t looking forward to another day of haphazardly skulking through the city with heavy packs on. Especially now that he was feeling more exhausted, it was an almost bone deep tiredness. The street outside was quiet when they stepped out, and Jean moved carefully along the edges of buildings and between cars, making sure to be cautious of alleyways and open storefronts.

Once they were out in the bright sunlight again, Marco found himself keeping a closer eye than usual on Jean. If he seemed too blatantly exhausted, Marco  _ would _ be making them stop and find somewhere for Jean to get some rest. Even if it meant a delay. Even if it meant they took extra time getting through the city. Because he wasn't going to risk Jean getting hurt or attacked. Still, until he looked like he couldn't continue on, Marco wanted to keep going for as long as they could. 

Marco’s comment had only served to make Jean blush, chewing his lip the entire time they were moving down the stairs and out into the chilled sunlight. Jean didn’t talk much as they were moving, not that they usually did at times like this anyway, but he was even more quiet than usual. Subdued and slightly more clumsy as he tripped over his feet a few times after they’d been walking for two or three hours. Jean didn’t know which, time was starting to be an alien concept to him and the only sure things were that day started at light and ended when it got dark.

The emptiness of the city seemed  _ wrong _ to Marco. And even more wrong as they got deeper into the urban sprawl. And there was a surprising amount of  _ chaos _ with a surprisingly low number of  _ bodies _ . And it was starting to freak the freckled teen out. Because it seemed like some kind of sick joke like an empty movie set. Not  _ real _ . And that only made it more dangerous as far as he was concerned. Something big, something terrible  _ always _ lurked around the corner when there was a false sense of security. 

By the time the sun had reached its peak in the sky and begun its slow descent Jean was shaking visibly and his head was killing him. His nose began bleeding lightly—nothing like the pouring bleed he’d had before—this time a lazy drip, drip, drip that he did his best to hide from Marco by sniffing and licking at his upper lip. They had to keep moving if they ever wanted to get through here, they needed to pick up supplies too when they got closer to the other side of the city. But the buildings weren’t yet thinning out or getting smaller so Jean figured they were somewhere in the centre of the sprawling mass and it was fucking  _ creepily _ quiet. It was wrong. There should be Ferals or Immunes or even a fucking Survivor. There should be more corpses, there should be  _ more _ but there wasn’t. The longer they walked, the more tired he got, the quicker his breathing was getting with anxiety and even the shadows cast by the daylight looked ominous.

Marco was so focused on checking their surroundings and the way the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling that it took him a while to notice Jean's nose bleeding. But when he did, he stopped, catching Jean's arm and turning to face him. From the smears above the other boy's lip, it seemed like a little while. "Hey… How long's that been going on?" Marco scanned Jean's tired and pained face and felt the way he was shaking. 

"That's it. We're stopping. You're sleeping." Marco's tone left no room for question as he looked around them to try to find somewhere they could stop for the night. They probably had another four hours of sunlight left and Marco normally wouldn't have even been thinking about finding somewhere to stop for the night for another two hours. But it was obvious that Jean couldn't go any further. 

When Marco caught his arm and turned them to face each other Jean felt like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “N-not long. S’ok honest.” He said, voice quiet and slow so his words came out fine because he was  _ so _ fucking tired he wasn’t sure if he’d slur or not if he talked at his normal speed. Then Marco was telling him they were stopping and he felt guilt wash over him. “I can still move. We should keep movin’ s’important right?” Jean said even as Marco looked around them at the buildings.

"Important, yes. But you not keeling over on the spot is more important." Marco sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't holding it against Jean. He'd had more than one sleepless night himself over the past few months. But they couldn't  _ afford _ nights like that anymore. Not for the time being at least. If they'd had a car, if they were driving, then sure. Marco gladly would have let Jean nap as he drove and it wouldn't have been a problem. But until they got through the city—or until they found another car, which he hoped happened at the same time—they needed to be at their best. 

Marco cursed internally as their surrounding buildings were all office-type buildings, tall and sleek and metal. But there was one that looked like it was some kind of converted condo complex. "…There. That'll do." They wouldn't be able to check the whole building. But realistically they wouldn't be able to check  _ any _ of these buildings. And looking down the road it looked like only more tall and sleek buildings. And at least by taking one of the apartments, they'd have a door with probably a deadbolt and a chain. Still gripping onto Jean's arm, he started heading in that direction, grip slipping down his arm to catch his hand instead without thinking. 

Jean followed Marco’s line of sight when he motioned towards the complex and he looked up along its height with a groan. There was no way they were going to check that all but even if they didn’t attempt to there were so many stairs how far up was Marco going to go? His line of thought was broken when he felt Marco’s hand slip down and hold onto his, he probably would have blushed if he’d not been so tired. Instead he squeezed Marco’s hand shakily and followed him towards and then into the building, his free hand poised over a gun even though he could hardly focus on the inside of the space because the light was dimmer in there. “How far… How far up…” Jean sighed out, not from exasperation but lethargy.

Marco squeezed Jean's hand back with a slight twitch of his lips. He adjusted the quiver over his shoulder before drawing his gun with his free hand to hold it at his side, glad for having been encouraged to learn to shoot with either hand—although admittedly his aim was  _ a bit _ better with the hand currently clasped with Jean's. But he wasn't letting go and with Jean as incapacitated as he was, they couldn't afford any delays. Marco considered Jean's question, glancing around carefully. Spotting the emergency stairs, he headed in that direction, checking through the small window before pushing open the door, checking the landing and then up as his aim followed his line of sight. "Second floor at least? Third if you could handle it but second is okay…" Jean really sounded exhausted and Marco reprimanded himself for not stopping sooner. Still, the sooner they could stop, the better, and Marco started tugging Jean up the stairs slowly. 

Jean groaned when Marco said second or third floor. He knew it was for the best, though, even if his body was telling him more adamantly that it couldn’t go on anymore now that the prospect of sleep was so near. “Third… go to the third.” Jean said with a nod and followed Marco up, automatically glancing behind them every few steps even though all he saw were two sets of the stairway. Still… it felt like his nose had stopped bleeding now, mostly.

By the time they’d made it up three flights of stairs Jean was out of breath and glaring—well… He wasn’t but it  _ looked  _ like he was—because of the pain in his head and eyes. “Marco I really can’t… I just… Even my eyes have crapped out on me.” Jean said, stumbling through the door at the top of the landing to the third floor and cursing under his breath. He’d been  _ fine _ a few minutes ago… sort of. “… Sorry…” Jean spoke in a dejected tone, guilt evident with the single word as they made their way down the hallway to a room that wasn’t directly by either stairway at each end of the long hallway. 

Marco hesitated when Jean said they should go to the third floor, not sure if the other teen could make it that far. But still, the more distance between them and the ground the better in case anyone came poking around. So Marco nodded, leading them up to the third floor. He saw the deep frown on Jean's face as he panted and was immediately concerned. And even more concerned when the other boy explained himself and just stumbled through the door. Marco hurried to catch up and clear the—thankfully empty—hallway. 

"Fuck… No don't be sorry… Just… stay close." Marco tugged Jean closer to him as they both moved further down the hallway. He found himself glancing behind him every so often. If Jean couldn't even focus his eyes to see anymore… It meant Marco had to be aware enough for both of them. That was  _ very _ not good. He stopped a ways down the hallway, letting go of his grip on Jean to dig the lockpick set out of his pocket. Marco dropped to one knee and set his gun next to him before he quickly started working at the door. He was relieved at least that the doors had actual locks and not those absurd electronic keys that condos converted from hotels had a tendency to have. 

Once the door clicked, Marco grabbed his gun and stood, shoving the kit back in his pocket and wincing a bit as his backpack shifted awkwardly. He pushed open the door to the condo wide and was quickly hit by the overwhelming stench of  _ death _ and rot. Marco gagged violently, making sure nothing came at him from the apartment as he closed the door again quickly. Well, at least that solved the mystery of where the bodies were. The city's people had probably gotten some sort of 'stay in your homes' warning. Not that it helped any. And if anything it made the odds of Ferals in buildings like this more likely. 

Jean let Marco help him along and really did try his best to keep a vigil down the hallway when the other boy was picking the lock. Unfortunately for them both the smell of rotting flesh was almost overpowering, worse for Jean it meant he ended up doubling over and vomiting all over the floor. The smell always got to him especially when it was strong, but right now he had absolutely no stamina for holding it in and he’d swallowed a bit more blood from his nose than he’d thought if the colour of the bile was anything to go by. Jean groaned and swallowed over and over again for a few moments before stumbling after Marco as he unlocked the other door. 

Shaking his head and narrowly managing to calm the heaving in his stomach, Marco wasn't at all surprised that Jean flat out puked. He almost had as well and his stomach hurt from trying to contain its intense heaving. But he was at least glad that it was the floor that got it and not him. Still, Marco left Jean to collect himself for a minute. He was still standing and the hallway was clear and that was good enough for the moment. 

Marco moved a few more doors down before repeating the unlocking process. Kneel, gun down, pick lock, gun up, stand, open door. This time there was no stench of unknown numbers of dead bodies—that had definitely not been just  _ one _ person—and Marco tried  _ very _ hard to not think about the fact there were corpses only a few paces away as he looked over to Jean with a hissed whisper. "C'mon…" He still had to clear the place but he wasn't going to leave Jean out in the hall either. Once Jean was at his side again, Marco stepped inside carefully. 

Jean followed Marco inside cautiously, hand still poised over his gun for a moment before he had to use his arm to support his weight on the wall. Still, Jean carefully and quietly closed the door behind him once they were both inside because he didn’t want anyone or anything to come at them from the hallway. Jean didn’t say anything, didn’t move—because he was stumbling a lot and that would hinder Marco’s checking as quietly as possible—so instead he stood in the hallway to the small apartment and leaned against the wall and tried his hardest not to vomit again.

Marco heard the click of the door as it was closed behind them. One less thing to worry about, at least. Marco maneuvered through the space with his heart racing, checking around every corner and in every room. He quickly realized from the amount of spinning left and right and jerking that he was doing that he  _ really _ hated having to clear a place by himself. But by the time he determined it was empty, Jean was still just leaning against the wall looking incredibly sick. Marco carefully locked and bolted the door before grabbing at one of Jean's hands, looping it over his shoulders as he threaded an arm around Jean's waist without hesitation or room for argument. He was getting the white-haired teen to bed so he could rest and that was all there was to it. 

"Come on… Let's get you lying down." His words were soft and gentle as he led the other boy to the bedroom. He let go of him once they were by the bed, moving to tug the backpack off of Jean's shoulders and drop it to the floor by the bed. He unbuckled and took off his own bag as well, digging out a bottle of water and cracking it open to offer out. "Here, drink a little something and then get some rest, okay?" 

When Marco was suddenly back at his side Jean wondered how much time had passed since they’d entered the apartment. It seemed like not much at all but Marco had apparently checked the place already because he was putting Jean’s arm over his shoulders and leading him to the bedroom. Jean did his best to help Marco take off his pack and then he eyed the bottle of water longingly through squinted eyes. He hoped it stayed down as he took it. “Thanks…” He said before taking careful sips.

Jean finished and handed the bottle back, pulling off the holders and knife from his belt and loosening it, leaving the jeans riding low but he really didn’t care. He shrugged off his hoodie and stared at the bed before just sort of falling face first onto it, shins and feet hanging off the end as he groaned loudly at how the mattress felt beneath his sore, exhausted body. Then he started to cry. Like an idiot—he thought—but he couldn’t stop the over tired tears from spilling down his face and the guilt at hindering Marco. “S-sorry… I’m sorry…” Jean spoke around hitching breaths and his shoulders shook with them.

"Sure thing." Marco grinned. When it was given back to him, he recapped the bottle and just tossed it loose on top of his backpack for the time being. He stretched languidly and rolled his shoulders, glad to be rid of the weight of the bag and feeling a bit stiff. Slipping off his jacket and tossing it on top of his bag as well, Marco raised a disbelieving brow at how Jean just sort of flopped onto the mattress in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable to him. It was clear the other boy really  _ was _ exhausted. While Marco wouldn't have minded sitting down and just resting his legs for a while, he wasn't exactly  _ napping _ tired and he debated with himself what to do. 

But then Jean was crying,  _ sobbing _ even. And Marco clambered onto the bed almost immediately, kneeling next to Jean and running a hand over the back of his shoulders. "Hey… No it's okay. Relax, relax. Why are you sorry?" Adjusting himself to a more sitting position, he kept up the light motions. Marco almost wanted to just gather Jean up and hold him close then and there but he wasn't sure if that would be crossing some boundary or just freak him out more or what. "It's okay… Relax…" 

Marco’s hand on his shoulders and the weight of the other boy in the bed calmed Jean slightly but his sobs wouldn’t stop. Too overtired to have that much control and he felt like a kid, it was both embarrassing and frustrating and his head fucking  _ hurt _ this wasn’t going to make it any better. Jean didn’t even think of boundaries as he pulled himself higher onto the bed and closer to Marco, half climbing in the other boy’s lap. Still lying on his stomach Jean’s chest and shoulders were on Marco’s lap now and the white haired teen pressed his face against Marco’s stomach and wrapped his arms around the other boy’s waist as he cried.

“I just… so glad I met you there… I’d probably be dead now if not for you. I-I can’t… I’m just being a useless fuck r-right now I’m so sorry…” Jean’s words muffled against Marco’s stomach and he squeezed the other boy more tightly. But even as he tensed his arms he felt the rest of his body starting to relax at the warmth of Marco’s body against him and the bed beneath him and he was swiftly sobbing himself asleep. Jean didn’t even try to stop himself from drifting, shoulders shaking slightly less as he all but passed out from exhaustion.

Marco squawked in surprise when Jean clambered into his lap and wrapped around him. But he made no move to stop him, instead just continuing to rub lightly against the back of his shoulder and letting him get out whatever it was he needed to. Jean's words made Marco's chest ache because he  _ really _ didn't want to think about the other boy dying in any context and he really wanted to have more faith in him than that. But what the fuck did he know. He didn't know what would or wouldn't have happened. All he knew was that he was there and Jean was there and he was glad for that. Both for the companionship just in general but also for Jean himself. 

When Jean went all but limp against him, Marco sighed quietly, shaking his head. Carefully, he adjusted their positioning so that he could at least lay down, tugging Jean's sleeping form up the bed a bit and holding him close. If he was going to be stuck for a while—and he wasn't leaving Jean alone when he'd been exhausted enough to burst into tears for no real reason—he figured he might as well try to get some rest, even if he wouldn't actually sleep. Marco tugged off Jean's beanie and let himself quietly pet at the white strands as he dozed lightly, drifting between awake and lightly asleep. He didn't let himself fully sleep though, still keeping an ear out for any aberrant noises given how much more active Ferals—and Immunes—were during the day. 

When Jean finally became aware of things around him again he groaned softly and opened his eyes slowly. His head still ached a bit but it was mild and no-where near as bad as it had been before he’d fallen asleep. He was still tired too, he wanted to just go back to sleep but he wasn’t sure if that was possible and he forced his eyes to glance at the window. It was pitch black outside and he gave a relieved sort of sound as he snuggled closer to Marco and nuzzled at his stomach which was really more towards his crotch but Jean didn’t even care in that moment. 

Marco had finally dropped off to sleep a short while after it had gotten dark. It was strange spending time during the day not doing things. But the feeling of Jean snuggling against him had him stirring a bit. He was vaguely aware that the other boy's face was much closer to his crotch than it had been and that there was hair tickling at his stomach where his shirt had pushed up a bit from their movements. 

Jean tightened his hold on Marco again and closed his eyes, fully intending to go back to sleep and assuming that Marco was sleeping right now as well. So he didn’t speak and he didn’t dare move too much other than the periodic nuzzling. Jean was vaguely aware of his beanie not being in place any more, and a hand on his head and the sensation made him break the silence with a soft hum of approval. He felt less emotional and much less sick now that he’d had some rest, and he wagered that after a little more he’d be ‘fighting fit’ again by the time morning rolled around. Of course he’d have to eat a relatively large breakfast because he’d missed dinner but fuck it. 

When Jean nuzzled him again and clutched at him tighter, Marco gave a little groan. He couldn't help running his fingers through the other's hair again. "Mnh… Hey… Y'should come up here…" Marco's voice was clearly mostly asleep and he fully intended on going back to sleep. But having Jean curled up with him fully again sounded like a very good idea. And he was too asleep to worry about asking. 

Marco’s groan made Jean pause for only a moment before he smiled lazily in the dark and murred at the hand running through his hair. “Mmn…” Jean hummed in agreement to Marco’s words, turning his face and pressing a quick, open mouthed kiss against the other boy’s exposed strip of stomach because it was  _ there _ and Jean couldn’t resist. He nuzzled Marco’s skin for a moment before untangling himself from his position, sitting up and kicking his shoes off before crawling up the bed.

"Nnnh…" Marco gave a long, shuddering inhale at the kiss to his stomach and the nuzzling that followed it. Each touch was like electricity jolting against his skin. He was  _ very _ glad when Jean finally moved and stopped the nuzzling. Not because he didn't  _ like _ it but rather because if he'd kept doing that much longer, Marco was sure that even in the dark room his arousal would have been blatantly obvious. 

Jean hovered over Marco on all fours for a moment, sleepy and sporting that lazy smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Marco’s jawline. “Thank you… for everything.” He whispered before carefully flopping to the side and wrapping a leg and an arm around the other boy. Jean snuggled closer and nuzzled Marco’s neck with a sigh, pressing the odd kiss against the other boys skin in nothing more than sleepy affection. If he was more awake Jean would never have so easily just started mouthing at the other boy’s neck, let alone kissing his stomach like he had done. But he  _ was _ half asleep and Marco was warm and he’d stayed with Jean and made sure he was safe and he was such a good fucking person Jean felt like a hurricane of butterflies was swirling behind his ribcage every time he thought about the other boy in depth.

When Jean hovered over him, Marco could just barely make out the expression on his face with the close distance between them and the dim amount of moonlight coming from the window. Marco hummed happily at the kiss to his jaw and the thanks. He was too sleepy still to formulate anything remotely resembling a proper response. So instead he just wrapped his arms tight around Jean's body when he snuggled in close. The nuzzling drew out another soft gasp, as did each kiss after it. In his drowsy state, those kisses at least were more generally sensual and pleasurable than erotic at all and Marco let himself revel in it as he clutched Jean tighter to him still with another content and pleased noise. 

With the additional warmth of the other's body comfortably curled around him, Marco found himself rapidly and easily falling back asleep. This was good, Jean was good, it was comfortable. Marco was glad he'd been able to help him, to be there for him. He made this journey more bearable. And now this… the contact, the comfort… And Marco just let himself enjoy it as he fell asleep again. 

Jean drank in every sound Marco made and every squeeze he received and then as the other boy drifted off to sleep again every slow, deep breath the other boy took. Jean wasn’t awake for much longer after that either, easily falling back to sleep this time as he curled tighter around Marco and hummed happily. The world had gone to shit, but whenever they were locked away and alone it could be shit outside for all Jean cared because  _ this _ right here was perfect. God only knew they deserved some respite.

Hours later, Jean woke with a start as a loud rumble and crack almost shook the room with intensity. He choked on a gasp and sat up, trying to fumble for his gun and in his panic he fell sideways off the bed, then the room lit up with an almost blinding light and the sound of heavy rain on the window panes registered. No… a bomb hadn’t gone off, they weren’t under attack or in imminent danger. It was a fucking thunderstorm. The sky lit up again and roared with another rumbling wave of sound and Jean pulled himself from the floor and walked over to the window to watch the way the thick black clouds seemed to burn from the inside with almost constant electricity. He hadn’t seen a storm like this for years and he wished the rain wasn’t quite so thick and heavy so he could see better through the glass. 

Marco woke up to a loud noise and then scrambling and shoving at his side and a thud and then a bright flash behind his eyes. He blinked himself awake, the sound of nearly torrential rain registering to his ears. Oh. It was raining. And from the sound of it, it was a really bad storm. But what was the shoving and the thud? And where in the hell was Jean? 

On a theory, Marco poked his head around the edge of the bed in time to see Jean sprawled indignantly on the floor before he stood. So Jean had gotten surprised by the thunder and fallen off the bed? Marco snorted slightly to himself, not awake enough for a proper filter yet. "That was… elegant. Next time can you maybe not punch me in the spleen when the thunder scares you?" He sat up, rubbing at his eyes and looking out the window. 

It was definitely a torrential rain. The kind that could soak someone through in minutes if they got caught in it. Fuck. Marco groaned, flopping back down onto the bed. "That's… I don't… I don't think we should go out in that… Not until it slows down. We'll both get soaked and sick…" Maybe it would pass quickly and they'd still be able to get in half a day's travel, Marco hoped optimistically as the room was lit by another bright flash before being shaken by another deep rumble of thunder. 

Jean blushed at Marco’s words and mock pouted. “Fuck you. In case you haven’t noticed we’re at constant risk of being attacked so like excuuuuse me if a sudden explosion freaked me the fuck out.” Jean stuck his tongue out at the other boy and leaned back against the window frame for a moment as Marco said they probably shouldn’t go out in this, he agreed. “Mn, yeah the last thing I wanna be is sick again. Already fucked up on the exhaustion front.” Jean didn’t say sorry again, because if he did he’d never stop.

"Okay, okay, fair point." Marco held his hands up defensively with a slight laugh for a moment before dropping them. Jean was apparently really unfairly cute when he pouted like that. Having laid back down, Marco only gave a small shrug on the exhaustion comment. He knew Jean had just been trying to push himself through it and had overestimated his abilities. Sure it was an inconvenience but he'd gotten to have Jean curled up with him for a good many hours and so it wasn't all bad. 

Jean pushed away from the wall and went into the kitchen area, intent on seeing what kind of food there was here and if any of it was still edible. He glanced at his reflection in a small mirror above a shelf on the wall for a moment and grimaced, pressing his lips into a tight, thin line. Without even thinking he strode over and pulled the mirror off of the wall, placing it on the counter reflective side down. Chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment to stop the weird flood of self-disgust that had washed over him at the sight of his face and hair—it was just  _ wrong _ looking—Jean resumed his search of the kitchen.

The cupboards weren’t  _ full _ but they held a decent amount of things and Jean grabbed some tins of tuna—still very much in date—and a large tin of corn because despite his love of meat Jean really was missing vegetables and that just looked heavenly to him right about then. He also found a couple of bags of mixed dried fruit and a 2 gallon bottle of water that he almost cried with joy about because he could use some of that to wash with. Jean set the food he’d gotten down on the counter and fumbled around for plates and bowls, making a sort of breakfast meal for them out of the things he’d found. He wasn’t sure if Marco would be up to eating so much so early but then again he wasn’t sure the other boy had a chance to eat the day before either so he was probably just as famished as Jean himself was… right?

Still groggy and a bit frustrated over the rain, Marco lifted his arms above him, staring at his hands for a few long minutes as Jean left the room. He heard noises that sounded like cabinets and the clacking of dishes and the sound of cans. And the noises sounded so incredibly… normal when he was just lying on a bed staring at the ceiling and his own hands above his face. It almost hurt his heart. He  _ missed _ normal. The stupid things and the silly things and everything. Books and video games and fucking around online. And it was easy enough to keep going and just trudge through each day if he just didn't think about it. But letting himself think about it and linger on it  _ ached _ . He gave a long sigh, sitting up quick enough to make his head spin and stumbled out of the room to find what Jean had wound up doing. 

When Marco came into the kitchen Jean was mostly done with what he’d been doing. They had a can of tuna each and he’d shared the large tin of corn between the plates too. Jean had emptied the dried fruit into a large bowl for them to share and found glasses for the water. “Uhm… I found tuna which is good, right? Brain food n all that. Corn too for a bit of a change I… I think there’s nuts in the dried fruit though. You’re ok with those right?” Jean was sure Marco would be, they’d had cereal bars before after all.

Jean chewed his lip, eyes glancing to the mirror for a split second with discomfort before he grabbed his plate after shoving a fork into the tuna pile, Jean’s other hand occupied by the glass of water as he left the room and sat at the small dining table in the main living area. Jean took a drink from his glass and then started eating the tuna eagerly, hungrier now that he had food in-front of him he ate quickly.

Marco looked at the plates and blinked. "Wow you… made it into a whole… meal thing…" He gave a slight smile before nodding. "Yeah, sounds good. Probably a more balanced meal than either of us has had in a little while, at least." A laugh escaped him before his face fell into a slight questioning frown, following Jean's line of sight to whatever he was looking so unsettled by. 

With Jean out of the room, Marco wandered over to where the other boy had been staring. A mirror? What was so unsettling about a damn mirror? Marco shrugged it off and grabbed a fork for himself, dumping it onto his plate before grabbing that and his glass. Debating for a moment, he balanced the bowl of dried fruit in the crook of his arm before heading out to join Jean. He emptied his plate quickly as well, particularly hungry after not having been able—or well, more accurately  _ willing _ , he probably  _ could _ have if he was honest—to leave Jean's side the night before. Food finished, he gave a slight sigh, settling back into his seat a bit and sipping at the water in his glass. "I… have no idea what to do today then…" Although with the way the rain hammered on the windows and the wind rattled the panes, just curling up in the bed again didn't seem half bad but he wasn't about to admit that openly. "…There's a bookshelf over there? Might be something interesting on it? I dunno." 

Jean finished his food with a sigh and then started picking at the dried fruit chewing his lips between mouthfuls and glancing between Marco and the books and the bed and really just feeling a bit lost. They really couldn’t move in this weather, but it seemed like an age ago when he’d sat around with nothing to do. 

“I uh… well I mean… I gotta wash before I do anything else.” Jean rubbed at the space under his nose to indicate the dried blood still on his face and shrugged a shoulder. “But reading sounds like a good idea… or resting, or napping…” Jean smiled as he stood up, grabbing his empty plate out of habit and taking it back to the kitchen before lugging the water bottle to the bathroom. Inside Jean used the corner of a towel and soaked it with water, rubbing at his face excessively until he was sure it must be clean and the skin felt a little sore. He did the same with his hands and upper body before pulling his shirt back on. 

"Mnh… Sounds good to me." Marco shrugged with a small smile. He watched as Jean headed back to the kitchen, admittedly watching his ass with the low way the jeans slung on his hips more than anything. Leaving his plate on the table, Marco stood and wandered over to the bookshelf. He eyeballed the books and the absurdly excessive selection of awful romance novels with a grimace. 

Still, there were a few things that could actually be considered  _ real _ books and Marco wound up grabbing an old and rather beaten-looking paperback of one of the Harry Potter books. He'd read it, probably an obscene amount, but it was something to do at least. And it was definitely much better than the 'she stared longingly into his eyes' garbage that was on the shelves with it. By the time Jean wound up coming back, Marco was sprawled on his back on the bed, one knee bent with the other leg crossed over his knee and the book held above his face. He was less reading and more skimming to reread parts he liked, flipping back and forth occasionally. 

Jean came into the room and eyed Marco on the bed, leaning against the doorframe for a moment and folding his arms as he let his eyes drink in the sight of Marco laying there. Jean chewed his lip and felt his stomach do that weird little butterflies thing and he tried really hard not to stare at the space between his legs that was visible. Pants or no pants Jean had  _ nuzzled _ that and god the memory was better than he thought it should be and he sort of wanted to do it again.

Marco continued flipping through the book, even though he stopped reading as soon as he realized Jean was lingering in the doorway and apparently staring at him. And well wow that was a thing. He felt a rush somewhere between self-consciousness and an excited sort of pride that sent tingles down his arms, trying to pretend to continue focusing on the book in his hands. 

Clearing his throat Jean moved over to where Marco was and flopped down next to him, rolling onto his back and resting his head on the other boys shoulder. “Hmm… what you readin’?” He skimmed his eyes over the words on the page and quickly knew  _ exactly _ what Marco was reading and smiled. “Ah, I never got round to reading those. Seen the movies though… god I miss movies.” Jean sighed and rolled onto his side, snaking an arm across Marco’s chest and nuzzling at his neck with a hum. “I wonder…” He mused and then lifted his hand and without warning scraped his fingers through the other boys hair and down the back of his neck slightly. Jean moved the hand back up and tugged at the hair just above Marco’s nape lightly, curious to see if the boy reacted as strongly as he had before.

A slight hum escaped from Marco's throat at the weight on his shoulder and he couldn't help a wide smile at the contact. If their 'down time' was like this, Marco couldn't help briefly thinking he wouldn't  _ mind _ more days delayed by storms. His brows quirked in surprise at the information. "Huh… really? I'm pretty sure the spines on mine have been broken for years from how many times I've gone through the series…" He gave a small sigh, nodding his agreement. 

"Movies and tv… I never thought I'd  _ miss _ daytime tv until it stopped broadcasting…" Marco squirmed with a slight laugh at the nuzzling. He was about to ask Jean exactly  _ what _ he was wondering about when there were suddenly fingers running through his hair and down to his neck and  _ tugging _ . Unprepared for and overwhelmed by the sensation, Marco let out an embarrassing noise somewhere between a whine and a moan, head tilting back slightly despite himself. "Mngh… J-jean d-don't do that. S'n-not fair…" Not fair to his odds of not just pinning the other teen to the bed, anyway. He dropped his book to the side, eyes glancing away with a dark pink hue to his face. 

“Mhmm… but then I’ve always been more of a hands on person… words sort of jumble together when I try to read a lot.” He shrugged, hand still in Marco's hair despite the moan the other boy made that went straight to Jean’s dick. “D-dyslexic or something…” Jean licked his lips and tugged on Marco’s hair again, unable to pull his eyes away from the dark blush on Marco’s features and feeling a thrill of arousal rush through him. “S’not fair…?” He repeated quietly, leaning up so he could whisper the words in the other boys ear.

Marco struggled to hold back another sound at the next tug to his hair, succeeding only partly. His eyes flicked back to look at Jean in time to catch the way he licked his lips. Marco let out a slight shudder. Oh that  _ really _ wasn't fair. His hands clenched into fists at the words and hot breath against his ear. 

“Why?” Then he smirked mischievously. “What you gonna do?” Jean finished with the question before pressing a kiss to the side of Marco’s head, then one to his jaw. Excitement and anxiety warred within him and he wasn’t sure if  _ this _ was ok or if it was crossing some kind of boundary, but Jean was a bit of a shit and he really liked teasing people. It was just that usually Jean’s teasing and the reactions it caused didn’t make him feel this intensely…  _ horny _ . Chewing his lip Jean pulled away, blushing and grinning stupidly as he untangled his fingers from Marco’s hair and rubbed the back of his own head. “S-sorry…”

"B-because…" Marco replied lamely. He let out a shuddering breath at the kisses. But then Jean was pulling away and  _ apologizing _ and no, Marco wasn't going to let  _ that _ happen. He moved quickly, rolling in one smooth motion to straddle Jean's hips with his knees. He dropped his hands to either side of the other boy's head, biting his lip for a moment of hesitation. "Because then I'd have to do this." He closed the distance between them, catching Jean's lips in a kiss. But it was different than their past kisses between the position and the sparks in his veins from the other teen's actions. Marco's heart hammered as he nipped at Jean's lower lip before moving to deepen the kiss, tongue darting out in a mixture of hesitation and need. He still wasn't entirely convinced that the other boy wouldn't just shove him off but  _ fuck _ he needed to. 

When Marco was rolling over and suddenly straddling him Jean’s voice came out in a surprised sort of yelp and he blushed harder. “M-Marco…” He gasped at the position and the look on the other boys face but then Marco was talking again and then he was  _ kissing _ Jean. Jean groaned and pressed back into the kiss easily and eagerly as Marco nipped at him, the tongue darting out to deepen the kiss was a little unexpected but not at all unwelcome and Jean opened up easily.

Marco gave a satisfied groan when Jean responded to the kiss so easily. The chaste and tender kisses were reassuring and nice but this… this felt fantastic. And Marco wasn't entirely surprised by the fact that the other boy was a good kisser but it was still a thrill and he responded and matched Jean's movements readily. When Jean clung onto him and tangled his fingers in his hair again, Marco didn't bother trying to contain the low groan that it drew out. 

Jean groaned again into the kiss, his own tongue moving to meet Marco’s with practiced skill and yet this was  _ so _ different. This time Jean was the one being pinned, Jean was the one on the receiving end of things and it was weird but so fucking hot. He wrapped his arms tightly around Marco’s shoulders, one hand grabbing the other boy’s shoulder blade and the other tangling in his dark hair again. Jean arched up into it and there was no way he was going to just stop at once this time, if he could Jean would stay like this kissing Marco for the whole fucking day.  _ More _ in-fact if the thought wasn’t still a bit ‘too much too soon’. “Marco- more!” He broke away, breathlessly speaking before leaning back in and kissing the other boy hard.

Jean saying his name so breathlessly had Marco's breath catching in his throat between soft pants. He gave a slight whimper as Jean crashed their lips back together, adjusting himself from his hands to his elbows so that their bodies were pressed together. The movement, however, had the unexpected result of shifting his hips more than he'd thought it would. Marco let out a whining moan at the feeling of Jean's cock against his and  _ fuck _ he really just wanted to start grinding against him. But no that was too much, wasn't it. Too soon. But god he wanted to. And he  _ really _ hoped that they would get there if he was honest with himself but they also really had to figure out what the hell they were doing first. He struggled to keep his hips still after that, focusing instead on the heat of Jean's mouth and the tongue against his and the lips against his. 

Marco’s whimper was delicious and Jean nipped at the other boys lips and tongue, gasping when Marco adjusted his position and their crotches ground together and oh god the sound Marco made went straight to his dick again. He was so fucking turned on but the pressure against his groin made Jean realise that despite it his cock was mutinously limp. Not that he  _ needed _ it right now or anything but it was shocking in the situation and he felt an uncomfortable sort of panic about it. Still, he focused as best as he could on the kiss, scratching at Marco’s back through the shirt the other boy was wearing and arching his back again.

Marco was definitely aware of the fact that he was definitely a  _ lot _ harder than Jean was after the accidental grinding. And it made him feel a bit self-conscious. Was he just weird for being so turned on by just a kiss? Was Jean really not that into him in practice but more just in theory? Trying to not focus on the paranoid worries swirling in his head, he focused on the kiss as best as he could. Marco groaned and twitched at the clawing to his back, lamenting the fabric between his skin and Jean's touch. 

Jean pulled away to gasp and pant, eyes closed and face red and brows furrowed in concentrated need. “F-fuck… this is… awesome…” Opening his eyes Jean stared at Marco with blown pupils, mouth open around his breaths before he leaned up and caught the other boy’s lower lip between his teeth for a brief nibble. “W-what are we doing?” He whispered, unsure but having to ask because it was maddening. Even if the whole fucking world was changed now and social practices like dating were useless and even if Marco didn’t feel the same sort of affection as Jean did… he needed to know. 

When Jean pulled away, Marco pulled back a bit as well, propping himself up a bit higher. He opened his eyes with a breathless laugh and a smile. "Hell yes…" He was momentarily slightly calmed in his worries about Jean not being fully into him by the blatantly aroused way Jean's pupils were blown out to dark circles with just a hint of colour at the edges, sure his own were the same. He gave a soft pleased noise at the nibbling to his lip before frowning at the question, his concern rocketing back to its previous level. 

"Well… making out for one?" Marco knew that wasn't what Jean was asking. He knew it. But he didn't know how to answer that question. He didn't know what to even call what he wanted. He barely even knew what he wanted, really. He wanted Jean, he knew that much. He wanted to be able to hold him and kiss him and touch him and eventually ideally even do more with him. And he liked Jean, he knew that as well. He liked the absurd exaggerated song renditions and the snarky banter and the way Jean pouted at him sometimes and even the fact he was a stubborn fool sometimes. But what about what Jean felt for him? If anything. Or what they could even begin to call it if he did? 

Marco sighed, tipping his head to rest his forehead against the other boy's shoulder so he wouldn't have to look him in the eyes as he found his words. "I don't know… I… I like you? I like being with you? And not… I don't just mean stuff like… like this. I mean all of it… I like being around you. And I guess I have a crush on you? If that wasn't obvious. But I don't… how does that even work… now." Marco pulled back finally to look Jean in the face again, gnawing at his lip with a worried expression. 

Jean gave Marco a flustered but sort of ‘no shit’ look when he stated they were making out, but he couldn’t help the small amused snort at the comment. His stomach was tying itself in knots and he was painfully aware of how Marco’s dick was  _ working _ and his  _ wasn’t _ . But then Marco was resting his forehead on Jean’s shoulder and answering and he found himself listening and half holding his breath. He felt his chest flutter when Marco said he liked him and sort of stumbled over his words in an adorable way before outright saying he had a crush on Jean. The white haired teen wrapped both arms around Marco properly then, squeezing him tight in a hug and burying his face against Marco’s hair. 

“Me too… On you I mean… not myself… like the opposite on myself actually but that’s not the point I-I mean I really like you… even in school I always thought you were hot  but… Not like I could just stroll up and randomly talk to you when we had zero connecting point and we weren’t even in the same year.” Jean cleared his throat. 

Marco gave a confused noise when Jean pulled him into a tight hug. But then he was speaking and Marco wasn't entirely sure his heart wasn't about to flip hard enough to turn itself upside down in his chest. Jean liked him back. Jean had noticed him of all people and enough to have paid attention to him. Sure, Marco had noticed Jean but how could he  _ not _ . But Marco was just… himself. But hearing Jean call him flat out hot had his dick giving a twitch to match the flutter in his chest. He was entirely glad for their positioning because he was sure he was beet red. But from how much the other boy was fumbling over his words he probably was too. And Marco just had too many thoughts and feelings in himself in that moment. 

“A-and I might be a bit of a pussy when it comes to feelings…  _ Just _ a bit and just that though. I’m totally not a pussy generally.” He was. He knew Marco knew that too but hey. Jean felt like he was blushing all the way down his neck as he pressed his face to the side of Marco’s head. “I mean… we could like… fuck I feel so lame putting it this way but be… Like… boyfriends? I mean it’s not like there's a ton of other people to go fuck with and we can’t do shitty cinema dates or whatever I  _ know _ that but… I like you and that sort of thing is  _ normal  _ even if it’s out of context for life from now on and it just… the thought just makes me feel kinda giddy…” Jean trailed off, sure he was going to explode from embarrassment and he wasn’t sure his fumbled words even made much sense.

Focusing on Jean's words, Marco gave a slight stifled snort when Jean said he was 'totally not a pussy generally', recalling easily a dozen examples to the contrary. But the other boy's skittishness and occasionally weaker disposition weren't  _ bad _ ; they were part of what made him cute and made Marco just want to wrap him up tight and shield him from anything. But then the teen under him was suggesting they be  _ boyfriends _ and sure it was entirely out of context for the world they were in and sure it was just a  _ word _ but it was so stupidly wonderfully  _ normal _ and good. Marco really just flat out  _ couldn't _ contain the excited sort of squeaking noise that bubbled out of him. He cleared his throat to calm himself, adjusting to press a kiss against the side of Jean's head. "I'd… yeah, I'd like that." 

Jean waited anxiously for Marco to react and respond to his words. He didn’t miss the snort in response to his pussy comments, but he let it pass because not long after that Marco  _ squeaked _ and he thought he might melt. The kiss to the side of his head and the final words of affirmation had Jean feeling almost high and he couldn’t help a relieved and genuine laugh escaping him. “F-fuck you make adorable noises… Oh god I’m so happy right now.”  _ I wish we could just stay here forever _ . 

Marco's heart fluttered impossibly more at the sound of Jean's laugh because that was a really really good sound. He whined slightly in protest at the comment about his noises but said nothing. So he was marginally even  _ more _ embarrassed now. He was too absurdly giddy to care. He felt good, this felt good, this  _ was _ good. And it was happy and it was  _ right _ and god happy had become such a rare and alien feeling as it was but  _ this _ amount of happy was just flat out  _ surreal _ . 

Jean lifted his hands and pressed them to either side of Marco’s head, urging the other boy to look at him even though they were both apparently blushing like tomatoes. “How bout we just stay right here and make out til we can’t feel our mouths any more.” He grinned and then leaned up and pressed their lips together. It wasn’t hard or demanding but it was anything but chaste as Jean lapped at Marco’s mouth and uttered a soft moan as he made a point of scraping fingernails against Marco’s scalp and tugging on his hair just a little harder than before.

When Jean pressed his hands to the sides of Marco's head, he complied despite the colour of his cheeks. Still, Jean looked about as red as he felt and Marco couldn't help grinning at that. The suggestion from the other teen sounded  _ very _ very good and Marco hummed his agreement as Jean caught him in another kiss. He responded to the kiss easily, lips and tongue meeting the other's movements. The moan from Jean had Marco groaning in response but the sound cracked off into a whining sort of moan at the tugging in his hair as he pressed closer, hips giving another slight jerk despite himself. He couldn't help shifting his weight and adjusting himself to be able to cling onto Jean's side with one hand to ground himself. 

“Mmn…” Jean made the sound into the kiss as Marco whined in response to the tugging on his hair. Jean was also painfully aware of the other boys arousal still and he couldn’t help rolling his own hips up in a bold grind, gasping despite his lack of erection because it still felt pleasant. The hand on his side made Jean tremble slightly and he craved more, craved skin to skin contact yet in the same breath felt a bit weird about his body still—even though Marco had seen him topless. This situation and that though were completely different.

“Shit…feels so good…” Jean whispered against Marco’s mouth, grinding his hips up again as the storm outside raged on with no signs of stopping any time soon. Jean pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down Marco’s jawline and to his neck, nipping and sucking there with the very obvious intent to mark the other boy. Hand’s still pawing at Marco’s back and tugging on his hair every few breaths until the hand on Marco’s head dropped to boldly grab the other boy’s hip.

Marco gasped in surprise at the way Jean rolled his hips up before letting out a small pleasured moan into the kiss. But it was still very obvious that he was  _ very _ hard and Jean was very… not. And he couldn't help feeling awkward and self-conscious about that, even as Jean trembled a bit under his touch. But he  _ seemed _ like he was enjoying himself. And then the white-haired teen was even  _ saying _ as much. So he had to be… And Marco was just overreacting. 

"Mngh… y-yeah…" Marco breathed out his agreement to the words before gasping and trying to stifle another moan. He whined and gasped at the kisses against his jaw and neck. The sound that escaped him at the nipping and sucking was an alternating series of short gasps and shallow moans as he tilted his head to expose his neck more. He knew he was going to have marks from Jean's actions and a thrill shot through him. Even with as much as he'd done with other guys, he'd never been marked so blatantly and openly on his  _ neck _ like that, always trying to keep things where they could be hidden. But there wasn't any  _ need _ for that now. 

Between the fingers tugging in his hair and the biting at his neck and having Jean underneath him, Marco was a complete breathless and aroused mess. He was glad for the bit of extra room the loose pants gave him but he was still almost achingly hard. But then the other boy moved his hand to grip at his hip and Marco couldn't help reflexively rolling his hips in a long motion with a low moan as he tossed his head back. But it just made it even  _ more _ obvious how still  _ limp _ Jean was and Marco gnawed at his lip before pulling back slightly. He had to say  _ something _ , had to put his mind at ease one way or the other. If Jean just really wasn't that into him physically or something… Marco needed to  _ know _ that. "Y… you  _ do _ like this… don't you? M'not… doing anything wrong or anything? C-cause… we could stop or whatever…" 

Marco’s moans were driving him crazy and Jean shifted and moaned as the other boy ground down long and hard with the hold on his hip. The white haired teen was so aroused he could feel it in his gut low down, his balls  _ ached _ with it and his heart hammered against his ribs. But Marco pulled back and asked the question Jean really  _ really _ hoped he wouldn’t and he felt shame and humiliation wash over him as he averted his gaze. 

But he had to reassure Marco that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. “I… I really like it… I’m so turned on I think I’d probably be edging right now if m-my dick  _ worked _ right when it was supposed to.” He felt uncomfortably hot, saying it aloud like that. “You’re doing everything so fucking right, I don’t wanna stop… I  _ really _ don’t wanna stop. My body is just being awful again and I mean h-hey I’ve had like three erections since meeting up with you and that’s three more than I’d had since Christmas…” Jean chewed his lip. “I’m sorry it’s… I dunno why it won't get hard… my balls ache so fucking bad.” His voice sort of heightened in pitch on the last statement, embarrassed beyond belief 

Marco's concern only spiked when Jean looked away from him. His body tensed, expecting rejection, expecting some form of 'I guess I only like you in theory' or something. But then Jean was saying he  _ did _ like it. And that he just… his dick wasn't working right? Marco frowned at that because he'd  _ seen _ Jean hard, he'd  _ felt _ it. But it seemed like Jean was saying it was just an on-and-off kind of thing? And that he'd gotten hard more often in the last few days than in the months before it? And Marco couldn't help feeling a bit  _ proud _ of that. 

Gnawing at his lip for a moment, Marco couldn't help a mischievous smile creeping onto his face. He leaned down, nipping at Jean's earlobe with another long and slow roll of his hips. Heart hammering and knowing he was pushing things, Marco couldn't resist saying the words that spilled from his lips in a low breathy whisper. "Well I guess… That just means we know who'd top then, don't we." He nipped a bit harder at Jean's ear before pulling back with a laugh and a bright playful grin. Granted, he was only  _ half _ kidding. 

Jean didn’t know  _ what _ he’d been expecting but Marco leaning down to nip at his ear and roll his hips was  _ not _ it. In-fact the words that followed stunned the white haired teen for a moment until they sunk in and Jean moaned and clung to Marco a little bit tighter, hips twitching. “F-fuck…Marco…” He swallowed thickly, burying his face against the side of Marco’s neck. “A-as long as you don’t break my ass you can be any fucking position you wanna be…” 

Jean all out bit Marco’s neck then, hands moving down to grab the other boy’s ass cheeks and pull him closer as he sucked another mark into Marco’s skin. This time much deeper in colour and bigger, too. “G-guess it’s for the best anyway. Never done anal…Giving or receiving, dick or fingers…” He was completely serious but he laughed quiet and nervous.

Marco worried that he'd pushed too far when Jean seemed frozen for a moment. But then Jean was gripping tighter at him and god his name sounded good like that from the white-haired teen's lips. He gave a light laugh at Jean's words that was choked out very quickly by a broken moan at the bite and the grip to his ass. He couldn't help his hips rolling again as he clutched desperately at Jean's side, fingers clenching in the fabric. 

"O-oh god, Jean… Ngh…" Marco's voice came out with a whimpering tone. He managed a light chuckle, albeit a bit breathy, deliberately giving a squeeze with his legs and arm. "Well then it's good one of us knows what he's doing. I'd take good care of you, promise." He was vaguely aware that was the first time he'd outright countered Jean's earlier assumptions of him as just 'awkward lonely virgin'. 

“Nnh… I know what t-to do… just never had the chance to try…” Jean groaned softly at the way Marco squeezed him and he trembled slightly. “B-but yeah… I’m sure you’ll take real good care of me… you have so far.” He whispered the words, their meaning both sexual and genuinely thankful for their trip up until now. Jean’s hands moved then, sliding up Marco’s back and scratching lightly above the other boys shirt before cupping Marco’s cheeks and guiding him in for a kiss again.

Jean might not have been hard but he was dead serious when he said he wanted to kiss Marco until their mouths were numb. So he tilted his head and lapped at Marco’s mouth and nipped at his lips and kissed him soft and slow and then hard and deep. He didn’t know how long they kissed for, but by the time he pulled away from Marco again his lips tingled and felt slightly swollen, he was out of breath too. 

Marco hummed thoughtfully at Jean's words, blushing slightly. He groaned again when the other teen moved his hands up and scratched at him, squeezing Jean's side again in response. But then there were lips against his again and Marco let himself melt into the kisses. It didn't matter that the world was shit, it didn't matter that there was a storm raging outside, it didn't even matter that Jean wasn't hard. The kisses they shared felt good and nice and right, from the tender ones to the hungrier ones and everything in between, and he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he could. 

By the time that Jean pulled away, Marco's breaths were short and shallow. His lips felt nearly sore with the intensity of the way they tingled—and more so when he licked his tongue across them. But probably the thing Marco noticed most was the aching throb between his legs that didn't want to be ignored any longer. Jean might have still been limp against him but Marco had been hard for a  _ painfully _ long time. With a few vague but embarrassed statements and gestures and a  _ very _ red face, Marco pulled away and carefully extricated himself from the tangle of their bodies before standing and leaving the room. 

Closing himself in the relative privacy of the bathroom, Marco worked himself firmly and steadily as he let the surreal reality of the situation sink in more fully. His hair in the mirror was a mess, his lips were swollen, and his pupils were blown. From Jean. Jean  _ liked _ him. Jean was his fucking  _ boyfriend _ . They'd just spent the past however-long on fondling and snogging and just feeling  _ good _ . There was talk of…  _ more _ —even if it was mostly bold and blush-inducing ideas for now. But fuck just the idea of eventually seeing Jean naked and writhing and moaning as Marco fucked him was more than enough to have the freckled teen spilling his release with a stifled moan several long minutes after he'd closed himself in the room. After cleaning up and making himself reasonably presentable again, Marco headed back for the bedroom, tackling Jean back into the bed and just holding him close for a long while. 

That was how the rest of their day was spent, in long alternating bursts of idle talking and lazy kissing and harder snogging and comfortable cuddling and even some light dozing. By the time night fell, Marco was sure his lips were bruised and his neck was covered in a series of bites and marks—although he was sure Jean's neck had wound up with almost as many. He was exhausted but still giddy and found that at some point he had started daring to let himself feel more absurd and illogical hope than he had in months that things  _ would _ be okay and that they  _ could _ do this and that he could think  _ eventually _ rather than just  _ today _ . 

For as much as he'd given lip service to the idea and even honestly tried to convince himself of it, he felt like maybe he could actually start to  _ believe _ what he was saying with Jean wrapped up in his arms. The rain had finally started to subside into a relaxing drizzle pattering against the windows by the time the sun was setting and it was an easy backdrop to fall asleep to with the other boy curled together with him under the sheets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finally finally. Hope you all enjoy the sappy nonsense!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a supply run through a drugstore, Marco and Jean both find some interesting supplies, although with very different intentions and purposes. Another night, another shelter, another brief moment of hope. How long can their fragile peace last?

Jean slept better that night than he had in a long time, despite his sore mouth and aching balls—an odd sensation to say the least—he was so content and  _ warm  _ and  _ safe _ feeling within Marco’s embrace. Being held almost the entire day by the other boy was amazing and just compounded that feeling of ‘safe’. The fact that they’d ended up as  _ boyfriends _ was also mind numbingly amazing to Jean and he’d felt charged with excitement all day until finally sleeping.

When he woke the next morning it was barely light outside and Jean groaned in protest because they’d have to face reality again, move and get supplies and try to get through the rest of this goddamn city. Hopefully without running into anything living that was bigger than a fox. He shifted slightly, nuzzling into the crook of Marco’s neck and pressing open mouthed kisses to the other boys skin. Skin that was really rather bruised from all of the lovebites Jean had given him the day before and it made him swell with a sort of pride as he lapped at a particularly large one with a flick of his tongue. 

Marco slept contentedly through the night, thoughts still overwhelmed but in a very very  _ good _ sort of way. He gave a small noise of protest when the warm weight against him moved before waking up enough to register that it was Jean at the nuzzling. The satisfying realization that the day before hadn't been just some elaborate dream washed through him with each kiss that sparked sharp but pleasant jolts through him from the sensitivity of the bruises on his neck. 

"Ahhn… Ngh…" Marco gasped and couldn't help moving to clutch Jean a bit closer at the licking. "Well… that's… not a bad way to wake up…" He gave a breathless laugh, moving one hand to rub at his eyes before blinking them open. A slight disappointed sigh escaped him as he glanced towards the window. As good as this felt and as much as he wanted to stay in the little bubble of peace, they had to get up and keep going. And he'd have to try to bite down his happiness and the fluttering in him to something more contained. Being so absurdly giddy was just going to be a distraction and put them both at risk. "Mgh… we should… get going." 

Jean couldn’t help the almost automatic roll of his hips in response to the pleasured noise Marco made and the way he tightened his hold. “Mnn, mornin’ sunshine.” He said, voice croaky from sleep as he pressed another kiss to Marco’s neck before pulling away and propping himself up on an elbow. Jean let out a sigh of his own at Marco’s words about getting going and gave a begrudging nod. “Yeah…”

Tilting his head a bit Jean couldn’t resist one last kiss, so he pushed Marco onto his back and straddled the other boy, grinning down at him. “But first this… then breakfast.” He leaned down and captured Marco’s mouth with a firm press of lips and a happy hum as he deepened the kiss with tongue for just a moment. Pulling away, Jean’s grin was even wider and he licked his lips before rolling off of Marco and off of the bed to go and find something for them to eat. Coming back a few minutes later with with some corned beef sliced on a plate and a pack of crackers. 

"Mgh?" Marco let out a confused and surprised noise when he was suddenly pushed onto his back. He wished he had more time to properly memorize the way Jean looked straddling him and grinning down at him because  _ fuck _ that wasn't going to leave his head anytime soon. Marco groaned into the kiss, responding easily with a slight unintended jerky roll of his hips—although in his defense, Jean was  _ straddling _ him. And the grin on the other boy's face was contagious as Marco smiled back. 

Marco almost whined at the loss of Jean's warmth and presence but managed to stifle himself. It was too early in the day to be embarrassing himself completely. Particularly in front of his recently-declared boyfriend—still an odd but entirely welcome thought. He sat himself up and stretched before moving to the edge of the bed while Jean did whatever he was doing. But then the white-haired teen came back and he had food and Marco smiled a bit wider, biting down a cheeky remark about bringing him breakfast in bed. "Breakfast sounds like a great idea…"

“Yup.” Jean said, flopping down next to Marco on the bed and letting the plate rest on his lap. “Breakfast in bed is an even better idea.” He grinned and his cheeks coloured slightly as he opened the packet of crackers. Apparently some sort of ‘cheese’ flavoured ones which he supposed were better than the plain ones that tasted of fucking cardboard. 

Jean put a chunk of corned beef onto one of the crackers and held it out for Marco, obviously embarrassed but happy as he blushed and smiled and kept his eyes downcast. It was weird for him to feel so bashful, his romantic experiences thus far had been  _ him _ confident and in control and knowing what the hell he was doing—even if he was a little socially awkward. But with Marco everything felt completely new and Jean was internally flailing a bit as to how a two guy relationship worked. Of course the emotional was just like any other, right? He felt so fucking attached and attracted to Marco already, had always sort of low key crushed on him. But physical wise? Not that it should matter when he should be thinking about staying alive more than like… fucking, but Jean really had an immense sex drive and apparently broken dick and apocalypse aside it hadn’t seemed to dull.

Marco blushed when Jean said exactly what he'd been thinking, taking the offered food. "Yeah…" He stifled a small yawn before starting to eat, picking his way through their meal slowly. He explicitly tried to outright not think about the fact he was essentially eating meat off Jean's lap. But he couldn't help his brain turning something entirely innocuous into something entirely lewd. 

With their meal done, Marco excused himself to pee and make some attempt at fixing his hair into something a bit more normal. He paused to inspect the dusting of hickeys across his neck with a thrill of contentment and pleasure up his spine. He headed back out to get his backpack and things together, slipping on his shoes and jacket before his backpack and the quiver. Marco made sure he had his weapons safely secured before seeing if Jean was ready as well so they could set out. "We should try to find a drugstore or something on the way. Find some vitamins or iron or something for you. And I've been thinking we should get some more gauze and stuff like that into our supplies. Just… in case we needed it." 

Jean ate happily, the flavour of the corned beef covering the flavour of the crackers enough that he felt satisfied when he was finished. He watched Marco go into the bathroom and then set about making sure his backpack was stocked with some of the food he’d found in the cupboards and he refilled a couple of the empty water bottles with some from the large one he’d located the day before. By the time Marco re-emerged Jean had put on his belt properly and attached his guns and knife, pulled on his hoodie and hat and was wearing his backpack and rifle. 

“Yeah sounds good. Maybe stock up on a few antibiotics and painkillers just in case. I dunno… just… I don’t fancy getting infections.” Jean said. “Lemmie just pee then I’m set to go.” He excused himself to the bathroom and relieved his bladder, pointedly avoiding the mirror on his way in and then out of the room. He shoved his shoes on when he was back in the bedroom and looked around with a sigh and a small smile at the developments of the previous day, still feeling guilty about his exhaustion the day before that but at the same time he wasn’t sure if things would have developed between them like they had if Jean had been ok. “Right, ok. I’m all set.”

Marco nodded his agreement to the idea of getting medicine. "Medicine definitely too. Whatever we can find. A city like this though, I don't know what we'll find. Don't people usually try to make a run on stuff like that, thinking it'll help them? But we'll try, at least. Grab whatever we can that seems useful." He didn't know too much about what was used for what but he knew the basics like penicillin and ibuprofen and whatever else. 

With Jean back at his side, Marco steeled himself before leaving their temporary refuge. It had been a nice little break from their reality, at least. Heading back out onto the streets, Marco could feel the tension physically seeping back into him, crawling up his spine and wrapping his heart in a tight grip that had it beating sharp and quick. He  _ really _ hoped they were able to get through the city quickly. It wasn't nearly as terrifying in the countryside. Although, he wasn't sure he'd feel the same if they wound up having to  _ walk _ in said countryside. But still, it had to be better than the idea of too many eyes watching with ill intent from too many angles. Marco tried to not think about it as they walked, keeping his eyes open for anything that looked like any kind of pharmacy or drugstore or anything that would suit their purposes. 

Jean nodded in response to Marco’s comment and then followed him out. As usual, his hand was ready above one of his guns just in case anything were to jump out at them. The streets were still as eerily quiet as Jean remembered and he still fucking hated them, eyes darting all over the place from alleys to storefronts to windows a few floors above street level. Everything was a possible threat and the contentment he’d felt in the small apartment was quickly washed away with tense alertness.

They walked for what seemed like hours, most of the buildings seemed to still be office buildings, though soon more apartment complexes came into the mix and the odd shop—though that’s not what they were currently looking for. Finally, though, Jean saw the familiar Walgreens sign above a doorway just up ahead and he pointed over Marco’s shoulder at it. “There’s one. Fina-fucking-ly.” He said with an exasperated sigh.

Marco snorted under his breath at the tone in Jean's voice when he pointed out the store, relieved but unable to resist poking a bit of fun. "Come on, there's still like two hours before we'll be looking for a place to stop for tonight. Aren't you supposed to be mister fancy track star? Running for miles or whatever? But a little bit of walking's got you tired already?" There was a teasing tone in Marco's voice along with just a slight breathlessness from the heavy weight of the pack on his back. Heading for the store, Marco drew one of the guns, clicking off the safety. 

“Sh-shut up asshat. Running for miles with nothing to weigh you down but shorts and a shirt is completely different to walking for miles, tense and carrying like ten tonnes of shit in a backpack and weapons.” Jean couldn’t help the slight indignant pout, he’d been pretty proud of his stamina when it came to track even though since getting sick he’d felt tired much more easily. “Besides, it's boring as fuck. Well not  _ boring _ I’m too worked up for that I mean… fucking… monotonous? Ugh.” Jean sulked a little but un-holstered his gun as Marco walked up to the doors.

"Mhmm…" Marco gave an almost patronising sort of hum although the grin clearly audible in his tone betrayed it somewhat. "Glad to know you're all talk." The large sliding glass doors were stuck open just the smallest amount and he could only assume the store had stayed open until the end. Which also made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

Jean wasn’t sure whether to roll his eyes or feel a little bit offended at Marco’s comment about him being all talk. Even though it was in jest Jean had become considerably less sure of himself and his abilities since becoming sick and hearing someone else sort of making a joke of it was uncomfortable. Still, Jean just shrugged and kept quiet. 

Marco wrapped his fingers around the edge of the door before starting to pull it open despite the groan of the door against the track without any electricity to ease its movement. "Uh… c-cover me, make sure nothing comes out of there…" Marco wished he could have hidden the tremor in his voice better. But then the door was open enough for them and their backpacks to fit through it. And nothing had jumped out and killed him. And Marco was willing to call that a success. Wiping off his palms from nervous sweat, he adjusted his grip on his weapon before stepping through the doors, checking around him anxiously. He really was starting to dread new buildings already and they still had a long way to go. 

It was dimly lit inside and creepy and Jean nodded when Marco asked him to cover him. “Always.” He responded and stepped in close to Marco as he pushed open the doors. He tried not to let his hand tremble too terribly much as he aimed into the dark room beyond, but there was no movement when Marco had finished opening the door less than quietly and he relaxed just a fraction. Jean followed Marco through the doors and glanced around, it wasn’t a  _ huge _ space thank god, some of these places were obnoxiously large. But this one seemed moderate and easily clearable so he quickly side stepped along to one of the end aisles and pointed his gun down, moving along to the next and doing the same until he’d managed to deduct they were alone. “I think we’re ok, you wanna get the gauze n stuff? I’ll hop over and get antibiotics n shit I was sick a lot as a kid. Think I have a pretty good idea of a few kinds for different things.”

Once the door was open and they were inside, Marco checked behind the counter and listened for any movement as Jean cleared the aisles. He relaxed a bit once that was done and he could be fairly sure they were alone. "Yeah, okay. You probably know what you're doing better than me then." He nodded at Jean's words, relieved he wouldn't have to try to tell the difference between half a dozen things with exceedingly similar names. 

Marco turned to head down the aisle with the first aid supplies and bandages. Slipping off his backpack, he packed every space he could find in his bag with tape and gauze, tearing things out of boxes where he could. He grabbed several antiseptic spray spritzers as well, clipping them onto one of the loose carabiners on his bag. Still hearing rustling from the pharmacy, Marco debated with himself before slipping around to the next aisle over. He glanced around him nervously, half out of habit and half out of not wanting Jean to sneak up on him there. He stared at the wall of condoms and lube for a moment before pulling things out of one of the less-likely-to-be-opened pouches on his backpack and shoving them elsewhere in favour of sticking a probably excessive supply of lube and condoms—taken out of their bulky box as well, weird as it was to be opening up  _ condom boxes _ in a  _ store _ —into the compartment and zipping it back up again. It wasn't that he was counting on them  _ using _ them. But  _ fuck _ he wanted to have them on hand if things went in that direction. Which he  _ really _ hoped they did. And he didn't exactly know when they'd find them again. So it was better to be prepared while he had the chance. Marco ducked back around to the first aid aisle, snagging some more antibacterial spray for something to do before heading to try to find Jean, hoping the pink had left his cheeks enough to not raise any suspicion in the dim building. 

Jean slid over the counter and disappeared behind a wall of more mild medications to find the antibiotics first. Even though he’d been on quite a few different ones it was still a dizzying amount to go through and Jean chewed on his thumbnail as he glanced over all the names. Eventually though he grabbed the ones he knew, something for kidney and bladder, something for chest infections and something that was good with skin issues and the like. Hopefully it was a broad enough range that they could sort out some other things if anything cropped up. Moving on he went over to the painkiller section and grimaced,  _ that _ looked like it had been sort of ransacked and he has some trouble finding anything he knew the effects of off of the top of his head, though he finally managed to find a box of vicodin. Jean shoved it in his bag and then looked around to make sure Marco wasn’t near before he shoved some tranquilisers into his stuff as well. 

Clearing his throat as he did up his pack and put it and his rifle back on his back, Jean moved to jump over the counter again. Seeing Marco on his way over he smiled. “I found a few different types of antibiotic, the painkiller section was wrecked though, think people thought that was the most important stuff. Still,  _ amazingly _ I found some vicodin. But we should probably get some paracetamol and ibuprofen on the way out too.” 

Marco gave a small lopsided smile in return before sighing, shaking his head. "Not surprised… The news was all over how painful it was. A lot of people are scared of pain, it's practically human nature." He gave a small shrug, smile slipping back into place easily. "Still, it's good you found something, at least. And the antibiotics are definitely good." Marco gave a small nod of agreement. 

Jean pressed his lips into a thin line at Marco mentioning the news, rubbing the back of his neck. “Y-yeah it’s… pretty bad. I sort of… wanted to off myself a couple times just to make it stop. Wished for it to just kill me like my dad already as well… y’know? Well… probably not but… it hurts.” Jean’s voice trembled slightly as he recollected the ordeal, taking a deep few breaths to calm himself. Jean walked past Marco, close enough to stroke the other boys arm as they moved over to the ibuprofen and was sure he saw a faint blush but couldn’t be  _ certain _ because of the dim lighting. “Did you get everything we need from the first aid section at least?”

Marco gave a sad but sympathetic smile at Jean's words. He didn't know firsthand, of course, but from what he'd heard it was pretty gruesome and miserable for quite a long time for Survivors. And he hated that Jean had gone through that. But he'd made it through it. And Marco wasn't entirely sure he would make it through this journey without him. "Well I… I'm glad you made it through it." What else could he even say? 

Shuddering slightly at the unexpected contact, Marco felt his cheeks darken at the question as he was reminded of his little detour. He swallowed hard before speaking to bite down the guilty tremor in his voice. "Mhmm. Yep. I think we're well prepared for any situation now." Including those that were much less  _ medical _ in nature. But he'd keep that to himself for the time being. Jean was awkward enough, Marco was sure the idea of 'oh yeah so I grabbed some lube in case we want to fuck or anything' would just make him go into awkwardness overdrive. 

Turning on his heel, Marco headed for the ibuprofen. He quickly ripped open two bottles of each and pulled the cotton out before he dumped them together. They only ever filled the things halfway anyway and neither of them had the luxury of wasting space. With the four bottles cut down to two and recapped, he handed one over to Jean before slipping his backpack off for a minute to stuff the other bottle into his bag. Vaguely, he wondered if they should re-distribute their supplies so each of them had half of everything in case something happened to one of their bags. Maybe if they encountered another delayed day. Assuming they weren't… preoccupied with each other. 

He took the offered bottle and reached back to shove it into his pack with a soft grunt, doing his best to zip it up. “Right then, all set.” He said, took one last glance around the store and then made his way back outside, hand poised by his gun again just in case there were people around. Luckily it was still clear and they managed to make it a decent way before the sun was getting low in the sky and they’d need to find somewhere to hunker down for the night in the now much smaller buildings. At least they were out of the centre of the city.

Once his things were safely secured back on his back, Marco followed Jean back out of the store. By the time the sun was getting low, Marco's shoulders were starting to ache again. He was glad, at least, that they'd made it through the most dense parts of the city. But it was still concerning how they hadn't seen  _ anyone _ , Feral or otherwise. For the size of the city there should have been more people. So far they'd only seen the dead. There should have been more people with a  _ pulse _ . 

Starting the search for somewhere to stay the night, they eventually came to a small, three story corporate building of some kind. From the fact the building only had one logo on it for some company he'd never heard of before, Marco could only guess it was the headquarters for a regional business or something similar. Still, it was better than having to worry about an entire large building and the door was intact and it was as good of a place as any. Marco was admittedly proud of himself for how quickly he was starting to be able to do the doors as he refreshed himself, getting the building unlocked for them in a matter of minutes. Gun in hand, he locked the door behind them so they could start to clear the building. It was darker inside than he would have liked but the sparse windows still gave enough light to see, if not with great detail. "We should… see if there's an executive office or something…" Marco's words were hushed as they cleared the sparse first floor before taking to the stairs.

Jean followed Marco to the building they’d chosen for the night and unholstered his gun, back to Marco as he kept an eye on the street. The other boys quick work with the lock meant they were locked inside in a matter of minutes and Jean kept his hold on the gun as he looked around the open plan space. “Yeah… probably right up top. At least it looks pretty straight forward and open plan in here.” The desks were neatly lined up and not packed together, it didn’t seem like there was an awful lot of people who had worked here. Off to the end of the room was a door to the toilets and Jean headed cautiously over to check them.

Deducing that they were clear he ducked to check under the tables before eyeing the stairs. “You wanna go first or should I? We have what… two more floors to check, hole up on the third?” He walked over to stand next to Marco, briefly holding the other boy’s hand because he  _ could _ now and it made his nerves die down a bit. Enough that he felt less jumpy and more able to check the place properly.

Marco tried to ignore the slight panic that rose in him as Jean disappeared out of sight temporarily while he checked the bathroom. But he couldn't help letting out a shaky and relieved breath when the other boy was safely in his view again. He kept an eye over the space as Jean moved to check under the tables, gun trained primarily on the stairs to the floors they hadn't checked. Being a smaller and older building, the stairs weren't tucked off to the side as some emergency option but were still in the main space, but off to one side. He  _ really _ hoped there was an office upstairs because otherwise it meant the entire space was just one cohesive space with no way to block off the staircase. 

"Sounds good. I… I'll go first." Marco nodded mostly to himself in response to the question. He squeezed Jean's hand when he felt the warm skin against his own. A slight smile flickered to his face for a moment before he forced himself to gather his focus. Still, he couldn't help a small admission. "I… I feel better with you watching my back." It  _ was _ partly that; he trusted Jean to keep an eye out behind him. But it was also partly that as foolish as it was, he'd rather be between Jean and any threat and the threats were more likely to come from in front of them. 

Heading up the stairs, Marco kept his aim as level as he could. "Watch the stairs…" Marco's words were hushed again as he checked the second floor in much the same way as Jean had checked the first. It really must have been a small company, whatever it was. Once he was sure the floor was deserted except for them, Marco checked that Jean was with him before climbing up to the top floor. He was pleased to see that there were not one but two offices at the back. Although one was much larger than the other. The windows were still old and small and the light was fading fast so he gestured for Jean to check the floor with him so they could do a quicker sweep while they could still see decently enough. 

“Okay, sounds good.” He said, following Marco up the stairs and keeping an eye out behind them but also all around. He covered the stairs going up whilst Marco cleared the room and then covered Marco’s back again as they made their way to the top floor. The space between the stairs and the two offices was relatively small and it was easy for them both to crouch and check the floor quite quickly. 

When they’d done that Jean opened the door to the smaller office and checked that with his gun raised, but it was empty and he sagged in relief. He joined Marco in the larger office a short moment later, pleased to see that was much the same as the rest of the building and he pulled off his rifle and pack with a groan. “Oh god I just want to lie down forever.” He eyed the couch, fabric this time but still big enough for the both of them with a potted fern either end. “What is it with offices and couches heh.” He said, flopping down onto it with a groan and letting his head fall back as his arms rested along the backrest.

Relieved that they were alone for the time being, Marco let the quiver and backpack slip off his shoulders in a heap almost as soon as Jean was in the office with him. Marco laughed at the other boy's words and the way he collapsed back onto the couch. "I think it's a thing about overworked businessmen. You make it to the top and you get a couch to collapse on between meetings or something." Marco gave a light chuckle with a shrug. 

Closing and locking the office door, Marco hovered by it for a moment. He eyed up the way Jean was sitting, head back and arms spread out. Debating with himself, Marco licked his lips before closing the distance to the couch quickly. He all but hopped onto Jean's lap with a broad smirk and a glint in his eyes as he straddled the white-haired teen. "Besides. I'm not complaining about a comfy place to curl up.  _ Assuming _ you actually  _ sleep _ tonight." 

“Eh… maybe. Or maybe they just need a more comfortable place to fuck their secretaries eh?” Jean grinned, keeping his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He heard the door shut and the clock of a lock and for some reason it made his gut twist with anticipation.  Something that was very much rewarded a few moments later when he felt Marco straddle him in one fluid movement. 

“Mnn… well hello there.” He said, finally dropping his head and looking at Marco through a half-lidded stare. Jean lowered his arms and pressed his hands to Marco’s chest for a moment before sliding them down over the other boys stomach, finally coming to rest on his hips in a firm hold. “Depends how worn out I get. Kinda think you should be kissin’ me right now.” He purred, thumbs rubbing the top section of Marco’s hips through his shirt as he rolled his hips up a little. There was a small twitch in his dick at least, this time. Much better than nothing at all and Jean licked his lips as he blocked out the world around him for just a moment. Just for now where they were relatively safe and locked in.

Marco let out a shuddering sigh at the way Jean's hands slid down his body before gripping at his hips. "O-oh yeah…?" His tone was a bit distractedly breathy from the movements of Jean's thumbs but he smirked regardless. A groan escaped him at the roll of Jean's hips and he licked his lips before closing the distance between them. He paused briefly a breath away from the other boy's lips as an idea came to him. 

Rather than catching him in a kiss outright, Marco nipped at Jean's lower lip first. He sucked it into his mouth teasingly, letting his teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh lightly as his tongue moved against it. He gave a slow but light roll of his hips as he suckled on Jean's lip. Pulling back briefly, he grinned before kissing Jean properly. He moved one hand to grip at the other teen's side while the other moved to his neckline, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric to scratch lightly at the top of Jean's back with another, harder roll of his hips. 

“Mm, yeah.” Jean reaffirmed, the breathy tone Marco’s voice held making him shiver pleasantly. Then Marco was groaning and moving down to kiss him but he  _ didn’t _ and Jean made a small frustrated sound before being cut off by a moan. The way Marco was nipping at him and sucking on his lip made Jean arch his back and gasp and  _ fuck _ Marco rolling his hips felt amazing. Jean’s dick gave another interested twitch and he was  _ sure _ he was sort of getting hard but it still felt  _ not quite right _ which pissed him right off.

When the other boy scraped his fingers along the top of his back Jean gasped again and growled, wrapping his arms tight around Marco and kissing him hard. One hand pushing up beneath the back of Marco’s shirt and pawing at his bare back as Jean bucked his hips and moaned. He wanted to do  _ so _ fucking much with the other boy, if his body would just stop playing up. “Nnhg Marco…  _ fuck _ .” He swore, squeezing the other boy again and scratching down his spine as he rolled his hips up again.

Marco couldn't help but feel pleased at the moan he pulled out and the way Jean gasped. But then the other boy  _ growled _ and it went  _ straight _ to Marco's dick. He gasped before shuddering almost violently at the feeling of Jean's hands against his skin as he bucked his hips. He groaned, returning the motion more firmly with a downward grind. Still, it didn't seem like Jean was nearly as aroused as he was. But he did his best to bite down his concerns for the moment. It felt good regardless. 

"Mnh… s'good…" Marco gave a pleased sound between breathy pants. He  _ really _ liked the way his name sounded on Jean's lips when he said it like that. But then the other teen was scratching at him as he rolled his hips. Marco let his head fall back with a broken moan, clawing at the top of Jean's spine in return as he rolled his hips down harder and more deliberately. His other hand moved from Jean's side downward to ghost along the edge of his shirt before slipping up under it, fingertips playing across the other's stomach. 

Jean watched as Marco let his head fall back, moaning in response to what Jean was doing and he grinned, flushed and mischievous. For all of a few moments until the other boy slipped a hand under his shirt and Jean’s stomach twitched in response, breath hitching and his own head tilting back. He definitely had a half hard-on now and that was way fucking better than nothing because he could at least sort of get off this way. “M-Marco… ngh.”

Marco gasped when Jean spread his legs and pulled him down by his hips. He could definitely feel  _ something _ of a reaction from the other teen, unlike last time, and a broken sort of whine escaped him. That was definitely  _ better _ . And helped the worries in his head. "O-oh god, Jean…" Marco rolled his hips a bit to better feel the stirring firmness. He wouldn't call him  _ hard _ exactly but he definitely wasn't  _ soft _ either and Marco could chalk that up as a positive reaction. . 

Jean arched his back and spread his legs a little beneath the other boy the action making Marco drop in his lap a bit more and he pulled the other boy down by a firm grip on his waist beneath his shirt. “D-do you wanna… t-take off these shirts?” he said tentatively. He wanted to touch Marco,  _ see _ him and it was only fair he join in and do the same, even if the thought of Marco really seeing the large patches of pale skin on his body or the white trail if hair dusting his belly beneath his belly button made him anxious. He might not even  _ like _ seeing Jean like that but oh god did the white haired teen want to feel Marco’s skin on his.

The question had Marco's breath hitching and he nodded eagerly. "Fuck yes…" Marco pulled his hands back to strip his shirt off easily and drop it to the couch next to them. He was belatedly aware of the fact that while he'd seen Jean shirtless—albeit briefly—before, this was the first time  _ Marco _ had been shirtless in front of the other boy. Cheeks turning a dark colour, Marco moved quickly to strip Jean of his shirt as well. That done, he let his eyes roam and his hands drop to Jean's shoulders before slowly running down from there, pausing to brush firm circles against his nipples. "Mnh… So hot…" Even the unusual patches of lighter colour only had Marco wanting to press kisses against each one. 

Marco’s eagerness surprised Jean a little, though he didn’t know  _ why _ . He let his own hands drop as the other boy eagerly undressed himself and he couldn’t help the way his eyes trailed along the exposed torso almost hungrily. He noted the blush and smiled, his own intensifying as Marco moved to undress him and he helped by lifting his arms and arching his back a bit. When he was topless, though, Jean’s bravado dissipated and he bit his lip as Marco’s eyes roamed and his hands came to rest on his shoulders.

The touch to his nipples made him choke on a gasp and arch into the touch, a sort of shocked expression planting itself on his features. He… wasn’t expecting that to feel quite as good as it had,  _ intensely _ so. “ _ O-oh fuck! _ ” He shuddered and looked up at Marco’s face, covering the lower part of his own with the back of a hand. “R-really…?” He asked, unsure and shy at Marco’s comment about him being ‘so hot’. 

Marco's eyes twinkled darkly at the intense reaction Jean had to the touch against his nipples. It seemed to take the other teen by surprise as well, which was interesting. Did he not  _ know _ where he was sensitive and not? He'd just sort of assumed Jean and the girlfriend he'd talked about would have been all over each other. Marco licked his lips slightly with a smirk, seeing a very good opportunity in this. 

A slight frown slipped onto Marco's face briefly when Jean covered his face and asked his question. Did he even need to ask? Or did he just not believe it? "Well… yeah?" Marco let his hands continue downward across the lines of Jean's chest and stomach, revelling in the skin beneath his fingertips, before moving up again. "You're fucking gorgeous…" His fingers moved across Jean's nipples again. "And so responsive…" Pausing his touch there as his tone trailed off with obvious mischief in it, Marco gave a sudden pinch to both of them at once as he ground his hips down firmly. 

Marco was just  _ looking _ at him and Jean watched him, watched the way he frowned and then affirmed that he really did find Jean hot and that just made his stomach flip flop. The hands were still moving and Jean’s breath was getting laboured, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back, hands both finding their way to Marco’s hips and squeezing. “M-Marco I-  _ fuck _ !” The touch to his nipples had him shivering again and he arched into it, whimpering slightly as they were pinched and  _ wow _ when the fuck had they become that sensitive?

The added sensation of Marco grinding on him had Jean bucking up again and he kneaded Marco’s hips hard. Mouth hanging open as he gasped for breath. “D-don’t stop that… so-somehow… feels… amazhing-gh.” Jean rolled his hips up again, the sensation to his cock stronger as his nipples were toyed with even though he apparently wasn’t going to get fully hard. Jean’s legs were trembling slightly with how tense they were and his hands started stroking up and down Marco’s sides appreciatively, fingernails scraping along the flesh there every time he pulled them downwards. 

Marco groaned at the squeeze to his hips, soaking in Jean's reactions. He loved how Jean bucked against him, letting out a moan of his own at the rolling of the white-haired teen's hips. "Y-yeah…? Sensitive here…?" He had to admit, he was a  _ bit _ disappointed Jean didn't seem to be getting any harder after the initial stir. But he wasn't getting any  _ less _ hard either and Marco could deal with that. 

"Mgh… O-oh…  _ Jean _ … god, nhh…" Marco half moaned and half whined his words in response to the alternating touches and scratches against his sides. He couldn't help trembling, grinding his hips harder against Jean's. His cock was so hard and constrained uncomfortably by the jeans and the angle but it felt too good to stop. Marco pinched and rolled Jean's nipples in his grip again, a bit harder this time, before flattening his hands to splay them across Jean's chest as he caught him in a fierce kiss. He had to stop soon, he knew, if he didn't want to wind up having to jack off again. But he didn't  _ want _ to stop, pushing himself just a bit farther.  

“Mnh y-yeah!” Jean groaned in response to Marco’s question and then again because of the other boys reaction to Jean’s touching. It felt good, both giving and receiving and he wanted to get off so  _ so  _ badly and he wanted his dick to work because he needed Marco to feel how fucking turned on he really was. Jean responded to the kiss eagerly and harshly, lifting one of his hands to tangle in Marco’s hair and tug as he angled his head and deepened the kiss almost sloppily.

“Marco…  _ Marco oh god _ .” Jean’s breath hitched in a frustrated sob, eyes watering as he bucked his hips up again and wrapped the had not in Marco’s hair around the other boys back again, pulling them flush against each other. He needed more but he was getting too worked up and his balls were aching again and he really might cry with frustration if they carried on much longer. So Jean pulled back and panted and just held Marco, trembling but keeping his hips still as he tried to catch his breath. Trying not to feel too humiliated by the pathetic sort of sounds he’d already made through his arousal and frustration.

Marco gave a surprised gasp before moaning out into the kiss at the fingers tangled in his hair and tugging. His hips bucked jerkily as he responded to the deeper kiss with a whine. He wanted more, he wanted to get off, he wanted  _ Jean _ to get him off, he wanted to get Jean off in return. He wanted to touch him, to taste him, to make him feel good, to just have them both able to lose themselves in each other. 

But then Jean was bucking his hips up and tugging their bodies together and Marco made a sound somewhere between desperate and pleasured at the feeling of so much of the other teen's skin pressed against his. He wanted  _ more _ . But instead, Jean was pulling back and stopping and Marco couldn't help the disappointed whine that escaped him between panting breaths. Still, it was understandable. Marco willed his dick to try to chill out, leaning in to steal a light kiss. "We should… probably sleep."

Jean felt bad when Marco whined like that, guilty because he wanted nothing more than to get him off, at the same time he felt like that would probably kill him. Because he was so pent up. “S-sorry I… s-so fucking… Frustrated and it’s driving me crazy.” Jean said, breathless. “If we keep going I just… my balls are gonna fall off or something… I’m sorry.” Jean felt a humiliated blush cover his face and his eyes prick with tears and he swiped at his eyes quickly. 

“I really  _ really _ want you. You gotta know that… kay? I… fuck I just don’t want you to think I’m not interested cuz I  _ ache _ with how much I want you.” Jean’s voice cracked and he groaned. Where was a good, deep hole when you wanted to curl up and die? 

Smiling slightly at Jean's apologies, Marco did feel a bit better for it. He nodded with a laugh in reply. "I… I know… It's okay…" He  _ did _ know. Hell, Jean kissed  _ him _ first. He  _ did _ know Jean liked him. It didn't mean he didn't  _ worry _ about it though. But that was his issue to deal with, not Jean's. Jean's dick was just… still fritzy from being sick, that was all. And he was better off than a lot of other Survivors because at least it worked  _ sometimes _ . Marco knew that. He just needed to  _ believe _ it. But it still wasn't good for his self-confidence to just… have his boyfriend's dick be half-limp while his was rock hard. But he would get over it. It wasn't exactly like it was stopping him from making out with Jean, after all. 

Jean cleared his throat and swallowed thickly before suddenly shifting, using the strength in his legs to flip them until Marco’s back was against the couch and Jean was laying ontop of him, between his legs. He reached across the edge of the couch and  _ just _ managed to reach the picnic blanket, pulling it up and shifting about for a moment as he got them both covered before he flopped back down on Marco’s chest. Sighing, Jean pressed gentle kisses to the other boy’s skin, just below his collarbones as his hands stroked soothingly up and down his sides.

Marco yelped in surprise when he was suddenly on his back, cheeks turning an embarrassed shade of pink. He hadn't expected Jean to have the strength to do that. He made a few more indignant noises as Jean adjusted the blanket over them but smiled regardless. He hummed at the kisses to his chest, slight tremors running through him when Jean's fingers brushed a sensitive spot. Marco tried to not be too self-conscious or aware of the fact his dick was still mostly hard and probably pressing into Jean's stomach with their position and angle. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the other boy more fully. "We should get some rest…" 

Jean felt the tremors as he stroked along Marco’s sides and hummed happily for causing them. The erection pressed against his stomach was distracting and Jean wished he had the confidence in himself to just drop down and suck the other boy off, but as it was he was still a bit mind blown about the whole thing and he  _ really _ didn’t want his balls to hurt any more. When Marco wrapped his arms around Jean, the white haired boy sighed happily, closing his eyes.

“Yeah we… really should. I’m beat.” He murmured softly, nuzzling against Marco’s chest. He finally let his hands still on Marco’s sides, holding him tightly and feeling like he really  _ could _ sleep thank god. It wasn’t long after, that Jean drifted off contently, warm against Marco with their bare skin pressed together in a reverse of the position they’d slept on the last couch in.

Marco gave a light chuckle at the nuzzling, humming his agreement. Still distracted by the way his erect dick was pinned against him by Jean's weight, it took him a while to fall asleep. But eventually his boner waned and the skin-on-skin contact was comfortable and reassuring and he had the other teen in his arms. And he just felt generally  _ good _ . And eventually he was finally able to manage to doze off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if only Jean's dick would behave properly, right? XD A big thanks to everyone who keeps reading and especially to those who comments! We love hearing your thoughts and feedback!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally reaching the edge of the city, Jean and Marco are looking forward to being able to drive a distance again and get off their feet. But how could such a big city have so few Ferals? And what unseen threats lurk around the corner?

Groaning as the morning's light seeped in through the curtain-less windows, Marco shifted his weight slightly and covered his face with one hand. He ran his other hand against the other teen's naked back slowly with a pleased sigh. Whatever else might have been going on, waking up to Jean half naked and curled up on him was definitely not something he was going to complain about. "Mnh… Jean… s'morning, wake up…" He rubbed at his eyes briefly before finally daring to blink them open, squinting against the bright light. He wondered how an office that had seemed so dim the day before could seem so glaring now. 

Jean slept deeply right up until Marco called his name and he groaned and buried his face deeper against the other boys neck. “Ten more minutes…” He spoke croakily, lifting his arms to wrap around Marco’s neck so he could move up slightly and press a series of lazy kisses against Marco’s jawline. “M’comfy.” He purred, licking one of the purple love bites on the other teens neck.

Chuckling, Marco shook his head at the sleepy muttering. "C'mon… Time to get up…" But then Jean was kissing at his jaw and licking his neck and Marco melted back into the couch slightly. He could definitely go for wasting another day just wrapped up in the white-haired teen. But they did have to get going if they were ever going to make it through the city and to the next before their supplies ran out. 

Jean could stay there all morning, all  _ day _ if he were allowed to, but he knew they had to get moving. Hopefully they would be out of the city by the time it was dark and even more so he hoped they found a car. He was so fucking tired of walking right now. Sighing he propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Marco, his white hair askew and his hat… he didn’t know where but it probably came off with his shirt the night before. Oh _ yeah _ … Marco was topless. Jean bit his lip, grinning before ducking beneath the blanket and biting at the area just above one of Marco’s nipples with a soft giggle.

Marco blinked up at Jean when he propped himself up. He stifled a snicker at the absurd bedhead sort of look in the other boy's hair. Marco was sure his own hair was no better. If anything, it was probably worse with how Jean had been tugging on it. He quirked a suspicious brow at the way Jean grinned and bit at his lip, wondering what idea had popped into his head. A moment later, Marco had his answer, gasping sharply at the bite to his chest. "H-hey… n-no fair…" It felt good, great even, but he  _ really _ didn't want to spend the entire day pent up and frustrated. 

Jean all but purred when Marco stuttered his protest and he understood  _ why _ but god he loved teasing. Jean pressed a quick kiss to the area he’d just bitten and then he moved a bit lower, hovering above Marco’s stomach for a moment and lamenting the way the blanket over him obscured his view. But lack of light aside Jean pressed his mouth to the middle of Marco’s stomach and blew a raspberry on it, pulling away and laughing as he rolled off of the couch and into a stand a few feet away.

Marco rolled his eyes with a smile at the kiss. But then Jean was moving  _ lower _ and Marco's breath hitched in his throat. The white-haired teen was just  _ lingering _ there for a moment and he didn't dare to move. But then Jean was blowing a goddamn  _ raspberry _ on his stomach and Marco yelped with a sharp flail and a laugh. If Jean wasn't out of his reach already he would have probably wound up slapping his arm or something. That was just  _ mean _ . 

“Gotcha!” Jean beamed, lips slightly tingly from the action but it was so worth it. Jean went over to his pack and dug inside for a couple of water bottles, tossing one at Marco and taking a drink from his own before getting some jerky for breakfast. Jean leaned his butt against the desk as he ate, crossing his feet at the ankles and less self-conscious about being topless now that Marco had shown he wholeheartedly approved. Even though Jean couldn’t see what was  _ nice _ about being blotchy, maybe he’d get used to it one day.

"Oh my god, you are an  _ ass _ …" Marco half-pouted with a huff, sitting up and rubbing his stomach where it tingled from Jean's action. He grabbed the bottle that was tossed to him, opening it and taking a few long sips. He couldn't help staring at Jean, gaze tracing over the uneven patterns in his skin. Tearing his eyes away, Marco closed his water before he stood and found himself a pack of jerky from his own bag, flopping back onto the couch to eat quickly. It didn't take him long to eat and before long, he was tugging his shirt and jacket back on and putting on his shoes. "Think we'll make it to the edge of the city today?" Surely it couldn't be  _ that _ much further. It would definitely be in the next day or two based off of how the buildings had been shrinking. They'd probably hit a residential area soon. 

Jean just hummed at the comment about being an ass, giving Marco a cheeky grin as he bit off some jerky and chewed it. When he was done he joined Marco in dressing and found his hat tangled in his shirt. He pulled that on too, followed by his hoodie before donning his pack and guns again quickly. “God I fucking hope so. I really  _ really _ wanna find a car I never thought I’d miss sleeping in the back of one so much. I’d take cramped over crowded any day.” 

Marco made sure his guns and knife were secure before hauling his backpack and quiver onto his back again. Giving a slight laugh, he nodded his agreement. Sleeping in a car seemed comparatively  _ lovely _ when put in contrast to having to clear an entire building just to take a nap. Plus the walking. Marco  _ liked _ walking. But he was growing to  _ loathe _ it rather quickly. 

Jean paused and glanced out of the window. “Well… not that we’ve seen  _ anyone _ here so far. What the fuck eh?” Jean scrunched his nose, feeling a shudder of unease wash over him again at the relative peace. Not that he wished they’d be attacked but not seeing  _ anyone _ was odd, the virus may have killed way more people than they thought. “We should get going. I really wanna find a car. I think we’re near the edges of the city now anyway things seem to be thinning out enough at least.” Jean looked around the room once more making sure he had everything before unlocking the door and peering out, seeing nothing he grinned over his shoulder with false bravado before going out into the office and making his way out of the building.

Jean's words about not having seen anyone had Marco's skin crawling and he nodded. "Yeah… It's weird…" Something wasn't right about it and he didn't know what it was but he knew it was  _ wrong _ . He forced a smile when Jean grinned at him, nodding and following him out of the building. Once they were out in the daylight, Marco found himself tensing again as usual. Jean was right, it really was  _ too _ quiet. For them to encounter Immunes and Ferals in  _ smaller _ towns but not a city was just… wrong. He quickened his pace slightly so that they were walking side-by-side again. But soon, he settled into the monotony of walking again, losing himself in just continuing to put one foot after another. "We should see if we can find a store or something…" They could do with adding some more water to their supplies, at least. Maybe food. 

Jean made sure to keep close to Marco, his hands poised over both of the guns at his thighs and he felt twitchy at first. It soon subsided into the same mind numbingly boring trek though and Jean nodded when Marco mentioned finding a store. “We could do with water and at least jerky, that takes up the least space.” By now they’d been walking a good few hours and Jean was about to reach for Marco’s hand when he heard a noise. He froze. Listening intently, of course it was probably another rat or cat or something, right?

He looked around them expecting to see nothing  _ again _ but it wasn't nothing. No, this time it was  _ something _ , in fact it was quite a few  _ somethings _ and Jean choked on a breath and stumbled back as he un-holstered one of his guns. He couldn’t shoot them, he couldn’t do it, his hand was stiff and frozen around the handle of the gun even though there were at least six fucking Ferals coming at them.  _ Six _ , they’d  _ grouped together, _ they had fucking knives and lengths of wood and they looked disgusting because their skin was rotting and black in places and why had their bodies not given out yet!? “M-Marco.. Marco run… we gotta… just… run… oh god!”

Marco hummed his agreement, missing the sound over his own. But he stopped and turned when he realised Jean had stopped. Spotting the group and their weapons, his eyes widened and he backed up a few steps. He'd never seen an entire  _ pack _ of Ferals in-person before. And they looked to be in  _ really _ bad shape. "O-oh… Y-yeah r-run, come on!" Marco gave a sharp yank to Jean's arm, turning and tugging him as he broke into the fastest sprint he could manage. 

Marco tried to not think about the fact he was slowing Jean down. He wasn't a runner and the weight on his back didn't help, clacking and thunking loudly and probably just drawing  _ more _ attention but they'd be  _ fucked _ if they left their supplies behind. He un-holstered one of his own guns and only hoped that he could outrun them thanks to the terrible condition the Ferals were in. Ideas like 'fatigue' and 'tired' weren't exactly in the lexicon once pain wasn't relevant anymore and he knew their pursuers could probably run until they dropped. He wondered if this was what happened to some of the other Immunes or Survivors. If Ferals were ganging up… That was a  _ big _ threat. 

Jean stumbled as Marco yanked on his arm but he turned and ran with him. The weight of the pack was jarring with every step but he ignored it, he kept pace with Marco because he was  _ not _ going to leave the other boy, there was no fucking way. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Jean was gasping and swearing as they moved and how could people with their fucking skin and muscles sliding from their bones move as fast as that and how the fuck did they get to the side of them. 

Marco didn't have the air to spare in his lungs for cursing or even speaking as he tried to push himself as far as he could as fast as he could. His heart hammered in his throat and the only thought in his head was that he didn't want to die like this. Not now. And Jean was keeping pace with him. Jean was going  _ slower _ for him. And Marco wasn't going to let Jean get hurt because  _ he _ couldn't keep up. So he pushed himself harder, focusing on nothing more than putting one foot in front of the other. 

Jean gasped and tugged Marco out of the way as a young girl with half a face and a stained blue dress ran at them from a side alley. He felt himself falling, felt Marco falling and grit his teeth as they hit the floor and he felt a scratching and  _ biting _ at his lower leg and he choked as he fumbled to aim the pistol but she was  _ so fucking small _ . But there were more coming at them and he couldn’t move with her on him and she would get  _ Marco _ and he couldn’t lose Marco too so Jean flipped off the safety at last and pulled the trigger and he missed as she scratched at his ankle again and it fucking  _ hurt _ and he felt sick because her fingertips were half gone and the scratching was  _ bones _ . He kicked at her with his other foot and shot again hitting her in the shoulder but she barely reacted so he emptied his clip until she wasn’t moving and his leg was covered in blood and bits of flesh and he wanted to puke but they had to  _ run _ . Jean sobbed and scrambled to his feet and yanked Marco up by the back of his pack without even waiting, pulling the other boy along as he ran.

Marco was being tugged to the side unexpectedly and he yelped, just barely seeing the girl coming at them. The tug combined with his awkward momentum from running easily sent him toppling and skidding. He flung his free hand up and turned his head to the side, barely managing to avoid smashing his nose into the road. Instead, his palm took the brunt of his skid, his temple and the apple of his cheek being skinned open as well. 

Stunned from the stinging in his body for a moment, he heard the shot of a gun. And then another. And Marco tried to get himself to his feet or at least to turn and make sure Jean was okay. But then there were  _ more _ shots. And Marco could only panic because why would there need to be so  _ many _ and was it all that  _ one _ girl? But then he was being yanked up, already half standing, and tugged along. Heart pounding and lungs burning, Marco did his best to keep up. He didn't look back, couldn't, but in the side mirror of a passing car he could still see their pursuers. 

Marco grabbed Jean's hand, tugging him down a side street, and then another, and then another before ducking into a shattered storefront and behind some shelves and finally stopping, unable to continue. Fuck it, if they found them there, they  _ deserved _ to get them. Marco couldn't  _ breathe _ and Jean was  _ sobbing _ and Marco had no choice but to hold a hand over Jean's mouth. "Shh… shh… quiet. You have to. Jean…" 

 

When Marco grabbed his hand and changed their direction Jean almost fell over but he followed along as best he could. His calf muscle ached where he’d been scratched and bitten and the shoe on that side felt squelchy and gross and he wasn’t sure if it was all his blood or some of  _ hers _ as well. When they stopped and Marco ducked down Jean followed and couldn’t stop himself from sobbing harshly. Scared and disgusted at himself and afraid of losing Marco. 

Gun still in hand, Marco kept his eyes darting from side to side. His eyes were watering from the sting in his face but he blinked it away as best as he could. When Jean clung to him, he wrapped his empty—albeit skinned—hand around him, trying to not smear blood on the back of his bag. "Shh… It's okay…" Marco's words were hushed, fairly certain they were safe for the moment but not sure enough to speak above a whisper. 

Jean tried to hold his breath, to stop sobbing, in the end he gripped Marco hard and buried his face against his chest and clung to him. If they were going to die he’d protect Marco as much as he could first. He pulled back a bit and grabbed Marco’s head, noting the blood for the first time and feeling like he was going to be sick. That was Jean’s fault too wasn’t it? Oh god. Jean pulled Marco’s head to his chest protectively and pulled his other handgun out, arm shaking as he poised it ready to shoot anything that came around the corner. But still nothing was coming, and his sobs were now quiet but still there and he hadn’t caught his breath and Marco hadn’t and they were bleeding and he’d killed a fucking  _ child _ .

When Jean pulled Marco's head to his chest, the freckled teen squirmed a bit before pulling back. "Jean, I kind of need to  _ see _ at least a  _ bit _ to be able to  _ shoot _ …" He couldn't exactly see  _ properly _ as the scrape to his temple—which apparently extended up to his brow—was trickling blood that forced him to keep his eye shut. He could tell it was just a panicked and overprotective gesture from Jean but it was also wasteful and they couldn't afford to be wasteful. Not right then. He rubbed at his eye with his sleeve before pressing it to the wound, trying to make it stop. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" 

“Nh.” Jean made a strangled and slightly distressed sound when Marco pulled away but he let him, the hand that had been on the back of his neck going limp and dropping to his side. He hurt Marco and he killed a kid and they could die and he  _ killed a kid _ . Jean’s chest hurt, he couldn’t breathe his stomach ached and he could hardly see through the wobbly haze of his tears and Marco was talking what was he saying? He almost didn’t make the words out through the ringing in his ears and he choked slightly.

“K-kid… I killed a kid… oh god I killed a kid…” Jean wanted to claw the skin covered in blood off of himself, rip the shoes and jeans off and get the guns away from him because he killed another person and it was such a small little girl. “M-move.. gotta run…” 

"Jean… Jean it's okay…" Marco knew his words were falling on deaf ears. But he still had to  _ try _ because yes that  _ was _ a kid, but once they were that far gone to the disease it wasn't like it was a  _ person _ . Ferals weren't  _ people _ anymore. It was survival and facing someone—rather some _ thing _ that would kill them in a heartbeat, it wasn't like there was a  _ choice _ . He wanted to stop and tend to Jean's mental state at least. The other teen looked like he was on the edge of losing it completely. But he was right, they had to get at least to some kind of shelter. Somewhere they could be more secure. 

Jean stood abruptly and faltered slightly before grabbing for Marco. “G-get up… b-breathe gotta run now.” He swallowed thickly around the bile in his throat and stumbled as quietly as possible through the store, he peered around the edge of the building and saw nothing, heard nothing. He wanted to get as much space between them and those Ferals as possible, he needed to freak out and he needed to cry and he needed to rip this shit off of himself but he couldn’t do that here. But Jean was so very on the edge of breaking down completely now and he stepped out of the store and made sure Marco was with him before going in the opposite direction from which they came. 

His leg was burning and wet and gross and Jean carried on until the buildings were squat and there were hardly any cars and he fumbled for Marco’s hand. “C-car… get a car…” He didn’t know  _ how _ to do it and he hated making Marco move and do things when he was hurt but Jean couldn’t  _ cope _ .

Being tugged to his feet, Marco followed along. As they moved, he saw the blood on Jean's leg and it looked like his pants leg was torn and that meant a chunk of that blood was probably  _ his _ . And if Jean was bleeding from the girl, they had to stop and  _ treat _ it because he could get  _ sick _ from that. When Jean finally started slowing down and grabbed for his hand, Marco flinched away with a stifled yelp. His hand stung too much for that and his gun was in his other hand. 

When Marco flinched away from his touch Jean felt almost all of his mental walls crumbling away. In his panicked state all he could think of is how Marco didn’t even want to be touched by him any more and his chest  _ hurt _ . He dry heaved and covered his mouth with a trembling hand as he tried not to puke. His breaths coming quick and fast and his head feeling light and his vision completely blurred by tears as he sobbed harshly. 

Marco spotted a white-panel van with what looked like a phone company logo on the side. The engine was bent around a telephone pole, the driver having apparently crashed. But the door was open which meant there wasn't likely to be anyone  _ dead _ in it. And the doors and windows looked intact. Ignoring the pain in his hand, Marco grabbed for Jean, tugging him towards the van. He leaned in, fumbling for the ignition and pleased to find the keys still there. Locking the doors, he closed the driver's door before dragging Jean around to the back door of the van. Unlocking it, he half-shoved Jean in before climbing in himself and closing the door behind him. Marco pulled his backpack off almost immediately, digging around for his light and starting to pull out gauze, a bottle of water, and antiseptic spray without even thinking about it. "Come on, lemme see your leg, we've gotta take care of that." 

Jean barely registered that Marco had grabbed him and was pulling him along now, still riddled with suffocating guilt over hurting the other boy and killing the little girl and his own mother now that he was having flashbacks. Jean stumbled into the van and only registered the change when the doors were closed and it was dark. He almost immediately threw his pack off, ripping off his guns and belt and then yanking off his blood wet shoes and pants and tossing them away from him like they were on fire. Jean sort of shuffled into the corner and wrapped his arms over his head, choking on his breaths and muttering broken apologies over and over again as he curled in on himself. Pressing himself as far as he could into the side of the van as he trembled enough to have his teeth chatter. All he could see was blood and the way her head exploded and the way his mother's face had been crushed and the way Marco had pulled away from him. He didn’t even care that he had some impressive wounds on his calf from the girl's teeth and the broken bones that had made up her fingertips.

Marco gawked only slightly when Jean just pulled his pants off but couldn't even be bothered to really register it with how the other boy was freaking out and the  _ wounds _ on his leg. "Jean… Jean I need you to breathe for me. Jean, sweetheart, can you do that for me? Breathe." Marco's words were slow as he quietly scooted closer with his supplies. He glanced between Jean's torso—or rather the way he was shaking—and his leg. He wasn't sure if it was just the amount of blood from walking but it looked  _ bad _ . 

Frowning and quickly determining that he  _ needed _ to do something about Jean's injuries first and foremost, Marco sighed, speaking less  _ to _ Jean and more  _ at _ him. "Look, this is probably going to hurt and freak you out and I'm sorry in advance." Quickly, Marco moved forward, lacing his legs over the other boy's uninjured leg and around Jean's injured one at the thigh and gripping tightly with his legs, pinning his leg like one might pin an injured animal. It stung to even grip the water bottle tightly enough to open it but he ignored it for the moment, far more concerned about the germs in a  _ mouth _ than on the  _ road _ . 

When Marco was talking to him Jean heard his voice but the words jumbled together, he got the general  _ meaning _ behind them but he couldn’t really make them stick. So when Marco grabbed his leg Jean panicked and tried yanking it away because the last time something had done that he’d killed it and it  _ hurt _ and he couldn’t cope with it. “N-no no please don’t- ugh… Don’t… touch it ngh.” Jean sobbed hard and tried to curl up but he was weak from hyperventilating and Marco seemed so  _ strong _ so in the end Jean just squeezed his arms around his head even more tightly.

Marco wasn't surprised that Jean tried to jerk away. But his hold was firm and eventually Jean gave up and he could get back to work. Marco bent Jean's lower leg up and towards him before dumping a small amount of water on it, starting to wipe away the blood so he could see the wound better. It was harsh, maybe, to be dealing with his leg first but he didn't know what the hell kinds of germs or disease would infect it otherwise and he didn't know how long it would take to get Jean back into himself. So he settled for wiping carefully at the wound and washing it as he murmured whatever small reassurances he could think of. He hoped, at least, that between the sting from it being cleaned and the softer touch Jean might start to snap out of it. "Breathe… It's okay. You did  _ good _ . I need you to breathe for me, Jean. You're safe now. We're safe. Just breathe. We're okay. You did  _ good _ , okay. I'm proud of you. Don't be sorry. Breathe, please. You did good. Thank you. Breathe. Breathe now." 

Jean's leg tensed and he hissed with the sting of water and touches against the wounds, mostly just scratches that weren’t too bad but the bite was deeper and there was one gash in particular that had carved a nice deep line along his muscle from one of her fingers. “I can’t… I can’t… I can’t…” He hiccuped, then again from swallowing too much air. He knew this was stupid, he had to get it together but he couldn’t seem to stop the flood of memories drowning him in disgust and sorrow. It was as if he could see and smell and  _ hear _ the moment both his mother and that little girl had died so very vividly and amongst it all he’d hurt Marco and Marco had pulled away from him so violently before but he was touching him  _ now _ . “I can’t.. I can’t lose you too… uhnggh… I-I can’t…”

Satisfied that he'd washed the wounds as best as he could, Marco sighed slightly. He sprayed on a liberal amount of the antibacterial spray before starting to wrap layer after layer of the gauze around the injured area all while continuing his nonstop quiet mantra of reassurances. He tied it off tight and put his supplies down before letting the other teen's leg go and shifting to his knees. 

Scooting over to Jean's torso, Marco wrapped his arms around him tight. "Hey. You're not going to." His words were firm but gentle, trying to leave no room for question in his tone despite how his brain countered his words. "You're not gonna lose me." He couldn't even remotely promise that. "And I'm not gonna let me lose you either." There was no way to know that. "We're okay." Marco could barely close his hand and Jean's leg was at risk of infection. "It's all okay." Jean literally shot someone. A Feral, but still. "You did the right thing." There was no question there. Kill or be killed. "You did  _ right _ . That was… that was really brave of you." 

“I’m so sorry… I… I keep killing people  _ I hurt you _ … oh god..” Jean choked down another hiccuping breath and as Marco held him he slowly started to be able to breathe more. The sting in his leg was still an afterthought, and he felt like he pretty much  _ deserved _ it but god Marco was hurt and he hadn’t even seen to himself and Jean was a fucking mess. “Y-your head…” He stuttered finally, coughing slightly and looking down to the arms around him. “Your hand…” He sniffled pathetically. “Gotta … gotta treat them.”

Despite his words, Jean turned in Marco’s arms and wrapped his own around the other boy tightly, legs to one side of Marco as he clung to him. He felt like the other boy was going to disappear and that terrified him, how could the thought of that be so fucking  _ horrific _ . More than anything else right now that seemed to become the overriding issue and Jean clung a bit tighter. “I’m so  _ sorry _ .” 

"Jean… You pushed me  _ out of the way _ . I should be  _ thanking _ you." Marco clung tighter to Jean when he mentioned his head and his hand, not wanting to let him go. He was a bit reassured when Jean curled in closer and clung to him. He gave the tightest squeeze he could, letting out a shaky sigh. He was glad at least that Jean seemed to be starting to calm down, even if he still seemed overly fragile. 

Jean pulled away from Marco shakily, still out of breath and blurry eyed as he crawled across the van to get more supplies to help treat Marco’s wounds. He shuffled back over with more gauze, using the water from before he grunted as he ripped the bandage and used the part he’d pulled off to dab water over Marco’s face gingerly. As if too much pressure and Marco would shatter and no longer be there.

When Jean pulled away and moved to get more gauze, Marco let him, too tired and fatigued to try to stop him. He flinched even with the gentle contact of the bandage against his face, stifling a hiss as best as he could. He tried to focus on speaking instead, moving to press the palm of his uninjured hand against Jean's leg. "Please stop apologizing…  _ You _ got hurt  _ protecting _ me for crying out loud." Marco should have been paying better attention, he knew. And Jean was hurt because of it. "You didn't even have to do that, you stubborn ass, but you  _ did _ and you got  _ hurt _ because of it." Because Marco had his head up his ass and didn't see the threat. "So  _ don't apologize _ ." 

Jean shook his head adamantly, flinching slightly at the hiss because he didn’t want to hurt Marco but he kept cleaning the blood from the scrapes on his face and head. “I… I don’t care about  _ me _ j-just… You…” Jean blinked rapidly against more tears that wanted to fall as he sprayed the antiseptic on a clean bit of the gauze and dabbed it against Marco’s face. Leaving this open was the best option for healing but his hand… Jean looked down and made a pained expression.

Marco sighed with a frown, shaking his head slightly when Jean was spraying the antiseptic before hissing as it was pressed to his face. "You  _ should _ care about you. You  _ have to _ care about you." He hated seeing the other boy this fucked up and conflicted. And if Marco had just  _ seen _ the fucking Feral coming, Jean might not  _ be _ that fucked up. And he hated knowing that. That he could have  _ done _ something. That Jean could have been  _ killed _ trying to  _ protect _ him rather than looking out for  _ himself _ . Marco hissed and winced as his hand was taken care of, that stinging more than his face had. 

“I won’t l-let anyone…  _ no one _ … get to y-you.” He swallowed thickly, trembling and blushing and feeling all sorts of mixed up inside as he got to work gently cleaning Marco’s hand the same way he’d done his face. He grimaced and apologised over and over as he worked, finally placing a dressing pad against Marco’s palm and wrapping his hand with gauze. “D-done… I think…” Jean lifted his gaze to Marco’s face then, finally daring to look at him and he felt himself crumble a little more. He was so scared of Marco getting hurt or killed, he should be scared for  _ himself _ but he was scared for  _ Marco _ . The gravity of that on-top of everything else had him hunching over and gripping Marco’s shoulders with another quiet sob, though he was no longer freaking out.

When Jean was finally done and looked up at him, Marco wrapped his arms around him and tugged him in close, all but hoisting Jean into his lap. "You're a fucking i-idiot." His voice cracked around the words, the quiet mantra in his head of 'he could have fucking  _ died _ ' getting to him. "Just gonna charge in trying to protect me and get  _ yourself _ hurt or  _ killed _ ? What, so I can just be  _ alone _ then?" He tried to choke down the waiver in his tone. Marco was  _ not _ going to cry. It would just make his face sting more. He wasn't. "I don't… I don't want you getting hurt for my sake… I can't… I can't take that…" 

Jean wrapped himself around Marco when he was pulled closer, feeling like shit at the way the other boy sounded so fucking scared and sad and he  _ hated _ that. “I’m sorry…” He didn’t know what else to do other than apologise and cling to him. “I… I won't die…” He couldn’t promise that, they both  _ knew _ that but he had to  _ say  _ it. He almost blurted out that he  _ loved _ Marco but that was  _ not _ what should be said right now… so soon. He didn’t want to say it when they were both messed up like this and stressed because he wanted to know he  _ really _ meant it. And with the current situation Jean couldn’t be sure of that, so he kept quiet and clung to Marco.

Marco clung Jean closer when he had to go and  _ apologize _ again. He hated that, he didn't  _ want _ Jean to be sorry, he just wanted him to keep himself  _ safe _ . Marco didn't want to have to see the white-haired teen get hurt.  _ Especially _ not for his sake. If someone had to take a hit, he'd rather bear it instead. Jean had been through  _ enough _ already, as if the tone of his hair and the patterns on his skin weren't evidence enough of that. Jean had had enough pain for a  _ lifetime _ . Marco was  _ not _ going to be responsible for more. Jean didn't deserve that. He deserved comfort and happiness and safety and peace and all the things he wasn't likely to  _ get _ in their fucked up world. But that was why they had to keep going. 

“I won’t l-leave you… I won’t let you get hurt…” Jean moved a hand up to stroke the back of Marco’s neck before turning his head and pressing a kiss to the uninjured side of his face. He wanted to reassure Marco and himself. He needed the contact and closeness and just the fucking  _ good _ feeling of it but at the same time he didn’t want to push Marco into kissing right now because he might not feel the same sort of… desperation for it that Jean did. So he just pressed another kiss to the other boy's cheek and jaw and the corner of his mouth and tried to stop himself from trembling quite so violently.

"D-don't let  _ you _ get hurt…" Marco couldn't help the quake in his words, sharp tremors running up his spine at the touch to his neck. The kiss to the side of his face lit something in him. Something that burned hotter in him with each subsequent kiss. He could have  _ lost _ Jean. Jean could have  _ died _ . But he  _ didn't _ . He was  _ there _ . By the time Jean was pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, Marco didn't have any restraint anymore. He pressed his palms—the injured one more lightly—to Jean's face before catching him in an almost desperate and needy kiss. Jean was okay. For now. They were both okay. For now. They both had each other. For now. And Marco  _ needed _ to make the most of that, to reassure himself that all those things were still true. If only for now. 

“Nmh.” Jean made the sound of surprised  _ relief _ when Marco grabbed his face and kissed him. He kissed back just as desperate and hard, arms wrapping more tightly around the other boy as he pressed himself impossibly closer. He licked at Marco’s mouth and deepened the kiss with a groan and a hitch of breath, one of his hands tangling in the back of Marco’s hair as they kissed. “Marco… nh..” Jean whispered the other boys name against his lips breathlessly, pulling away with a soft gasp.

Jean looked down and pressed his forehead to Marco’s, still conscious of the other boy’s injuries as he stroked fingers through Marco’s hair and across his back. “I- I’m so glad you’re here with me… I’m so glad you’re s-safe right now…” Jean tilted his head after those words and kissed Marco again, just as desperate but a little slower this time, instantly deepening the kiss and arching against Marco.

Marco groaned an encouraging sound when Jean pressed closer against him and deepened the kiss. He responded just as eagerly, dropping one hand down to wrap around Jean's body instead and hold him close with another desperate sound as his hair was tugged at. He could feel the dull sting of bruises forming where his body had impacted the road and was now pressed against Jean but he didn't  _ care _ . The combination of the way his name sounded from the other teen's lips and the fingers playing in his hair and against his back was enough to have tremors shooting up and down his spine, making him jerk ever so slightly. 

Jean's words had the stinging prick of tears threatening the corners of Marco's eyes again. He wasn't even sure  _ why _ other than that they were so true and so earnest-sounding and that he felt the same way. The second kiss caught him off-guard and he melted into it a bit more. Marco pulled back slightly to press his hands to Jean's face again, looking at him carefully, dark eyes searching. "I… I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared. Scared I'm gonna lose you… I… I can't. I need you." His words were quiet, barely more than a breath with the weight of them. He'd be lost. If he lost Jean, he'd be lost. 

“Ngh.” Jean blinked watery eyes open when Marco grabbed his face again and just held him, looking at him. Jean felt his chest swell with hot adoration at the other boys words and he nodded. “Me too… I won’t go anywhere, n-not if I can help it. I won’t leave you. I need you too.” Jean let one of his own hands rest on the uninjured side of Marco’s face, thumb stroking along a patch of freckles on Marco’s cheek. 

“W-we’ll get there. We’ll stay alive and get to these people a-and just…have a new life there. Together.” Jean's face was burning and it was an odd mix of feelings causing both the blush and his watering eyes. But right now they’d  _ survived _ and they were together if not a little worse for wear and Jean sagged against Marco with an exhausted sigh. “I’m so glad we got out of there…” Jean let his head rest on Marco’s shoulder, shivering slightly from chill where he was pretty much half undressed, but the warmth from Marco’s body was amazing and there was no way he was going to move right now. On-top of that he was just so fucking exhausted he felt like he could sleep for an age, eyelids drooping as he tried to stay awake.

Marco hummed at the light touch to his cheek, fondness and relief and fear battling contrastingly. The words had him letting out an oddly-toned laugh and even he wasn't sure if it was disbelieving or absurdly hopeful or what. God he wanted that so badly. Just to be done with the running and the fear. But they still had so far to go and so much could go wrong. "I'd like that…" But… together. That made Marco smile slightly. Hell, if they could make it through a literal apocalypse together, that was a good sign for them, wasn't it? 

Adrenaline fading fast, Marco found himself sagging as well when Jean sagged against him, muttering his agreement. He was just about ready to collapse then and there. But he felt the shiver from the other boy and forced himself to move. He adjusted them as best as he could, tipping them both over and spreading them out until he could manage to grab the blanket. He tried to be careful of Jean's leg as well which only made it more difficult. Tugging the blanket over, he made sure Jean was as covered as he could be before curling in close and taking the extra bit of blanket for himself. The floor of the van was hard and uncomfortable but he was drained and fatigued and Marco was pretty sure he could sleep on a  _ rock _ as long as it was a  _ safe _ rock. It didn't take him long to fall asleep. 

Jean grunted and groaned in protest as Marco moved them, clinging to the other boy and ignoring the twinge in his leg as much as possible because that  _ didn’t matter _ . He shivered again when they were against the floor of the van, curling close to Marco as he covered the both of them up. The blanket helped a bit and even though the bed of the van was chilled too, Marco’s body against him was wonderfully warm and Jean found himself falling asleep quickly despite his distressed state.

Jean did not sleep well. Throughout the night Jean kept jerking awake in a panic, eyes darting around the dark space and  _ sure _ he could hear things all around them even though there was nothing there. He glanced at his backpack and really  _ really _ considered popping some of the tranquilisers he’d pilfered from the chemist. However, Jean was exhausted enough that moving was too much trouble and then he’d fall asleep again only for the cycle to repeat. By the time morning came he felt sick and still tired, his leg hurt and his shoulder was stiff but he and Marco were alive. He groaned and sat up, trembling again and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes to try and wake himself up better. He couldn’t afford a repeat of that day when he’d all but collapsed from exhaustion, not now. Not when the threat still seemed way too fucking close.

Marco jerked awake a few times as well from the way Jean jolted against him. A few times he even considered saying something to try to calm the white-haired boy down, drowsily registering the tension and almost panic in Jean's body and jerky movements. But he was tired and he was sure Jean was tired and the last thing he wanted was for Jean to feel bad about waking him up. Repeatedly. 

It took Marco an increasing amount of time to fall asleep after each rude awakening and by morning he was tired and sore, waking up to the feeling of Jean pulling away and sitting up. "Mngh… Morning…" The bruises on his shoulder, chest, and knee were the most noticeable when he went to sit up and Marco struggled to stifle a pained noise. It wasn't surprising at all that he was bruised up. The weight of the backpack likely added almost half his weight over again to his mass and combined with how he'd basically been shoved into falling with extra force… Marco was just glad for the jacket and jeans having protected those areas from being scraped open as well. His face and hand stung sharply as well and he sighed. "Well… today's gonna suck. Really hope we find a car…" He didn't think he could handle walking for another full day with how he felt. And he was sure Jean couldn't, not after last time. 

“M-Morning.” Jean said, subdued and almost cautious as he fumbled around for his pants. They were gross, but he had nothing else to wear right now and it was chilly again. He pulled them on as well as his shoes, forcing down some water and jerky so he had a bit of energy for walking Jean went about making sure his holsters were strapped on right, reloaded the gun he’d emptied the day before and finally shouldered his pack and rifle. Jean didn’t speak the entire time, not sure what to say and entirely too drained to just laugh off the odd mood this time. Guilt was still rife within him, and his leg hurt more than it had seemed to the day before. “I hope we do too… I’m so fucking done with walking.” His breath hitched and he swiped the back of his arm across his nose, forcing himself not to cry  _ again _ as he took another gulp of water. “Are you… I mean, your body isn’t too bad…? D-do you need to rest longer?”

Marco grimaced slightly at the state of Jean's pants. But there was no choice. He just hoped they'd find something else he could wear soon. Marco was quiet out of tiredness more than anything as he downed a pouch of tuna—more for a break from jerky than anything—and some water. He sighed when Jean was putting on his things, moving to put on his backpack and sling the quiver over his shoulder as well. It was a damn miracle the arrows hadn't gone skittering out when he'd fallen. 

Reaching out a sympathetic hand when Jean's breath hitched, Marco rested it on Jean's elbow. "I'm fine…" He wasn't exactly  _ fine _ , his knee hurt like hell the more he moved it. But Jean didn't need to know what. He grinned with a light laugh. "My face kinda feels like I got slapped with a cheese grater but I can walk fine." Not really but he could fake it. "…I'm more worried about your leg, to be honest. D'you think… you should take something for it? Antibiotics or something? God only knows what… that thing was chewing on before you." It was easy for Marco to dissociate the Ferals from actual fully-sentient people. Sure they'd  _ been _ people, but it wasn't any different than an animal who'd gone rabid. They had to be put down if they became a threat and that was that. 

The hand on his elbow calmed him a little and Jean lifted his own hand to cup over it, giving a light squeeze. “I’m sorry… bout your face… n everything.” Jean couldn’t help apologising  _ again _ . “Y-you still look damn fine though…?” He really  _ really  _ tried to make that sound playful but his voice sort of wavered. “You got a point about pills though… actually. We should both take some painkillers.” Jean pulled his pack off again and rifled through it.

Marco rolled his eyes at the apology and snorted at Jean's attempt to lighten the mood. "Oh no, whatever shall I do, my modeling career is over." He stuck his tongue out with a slight wry smile. "As long as you still like me, I could really care less." It wasn't like mirrors were a frequent visiting point for them lately anyway and Marco really wasn't  _ that _ concerned with his looks. 

Jean almost rolled his eyes at Marco’s comment about his modeling career, probably would have if he didn’t feel so sick with anxiety still. He nodded, indicating that he still liked Marco, of  _ course _ he still liked Marco. Pulling out a couple of antibiotics, he swallowed them dry before doing the same with two ibuprofen. It wouldn’t make the pain in his leg go away fully but it might dull it enough so that he wasn’t limping heavily. His calf muscle felt hot and tense, cramp making it ache where it was responding to the injury. Pulling his things back on Jean looked at Marco and handed him two ibuprofen from his stash that he’d gotten out a moment ago. “T-take those then we should get going.”

Relieved to see Jean taking the antibiotics at least, Marco gave a small grimace. "I don't know how you can take those dry." Still, he took the offered painkillers with a thankful nod, finishing off the last of his water bottle to swallow the pills with. Maybe he wouldn't have to struggle as much to endure his bruises after all. Making sure he had everything, Marco adjusted his backpack slightly. "Okay… Let's go then." He started off in the direction they'd been heading in for days now. The commercial buildings soon gave way to houses and Marco felt a slight bubbling of relief at the idea that meant they might be through the city soon. "We should… start looking for a car. We need something with at least half a tank of gas ideally. But anything more than that is fantastic." 

“I’ve had much worse tastes in my mouth recently, these are nothing.” Jean smiled sadly and watched Marco take the painkillers and then they were ready to go. As they walked, Jean was tense, his muscles were already screaming at him because of it but he couldn’t relax at all. Still, the fact that the tall buildings thinned out and they were surrounded by houses after a while made the trembling cramp in his muscles ease just a little. But things could still go wrong again, they could be attacked again and he might have to kill again or Marco could be hurt or killed and Jean swallowed a thick lump. “We uh… c-car sounds good yeah…” Jean nodded and tried to keep an eye out for a car that wasn’t damaged, but his eyes kept flicking to the houses and the yards and any space where a body could fit more than towards the cars. So it was nearly impossible for him to tell if any of them were road worthy.

Marco did his best to keep his strides steady and even as he walked. He wasn't  _ really _ hurt, he knew that much. Jean was in a far worse state. But with how overly guilty he seemed about just the scrapes, he wasn't going to risk giving the other boy something else to worry about. He looked from car to car. Most of them looked like they'd had windows smashed or were damaged in some way. A good few of them looked like they'd been burnt out which was… unsettling. Spotting a flat but hooked piece of metal that looked like it had come off of… something, Marco snatched it up and looked at it for a moment. There was a good chance he'd be able to get a car door open with it so he held onto it. 

Finally Marco spotted a car that looked… old but intact up in a driveway. Judging from the age of the car it probably belonged to either a broke teenager or an elderly person. Which meant there was a solid chance it would have a good amount of gas in it. "Hey… c'mon let's try that one." He gestured before heading for the car. It was parked  _ very _ close to the house and that made him nervous with the way the front door swung and creaked on its hinges, partly ajar. But it was their best bet that he'd seen. He tested the door. Locked. 

"Damn… Keep an eye out okay?" Marco glanced at Jean before he tested his makeshift slimjim, barely managing to make it slip down the space between the door and the window. A wiggle and a pull. A wiggle and a pull. 

When Marco eventually broke the tense silence and pointed out a car Jean nodded and followed the other boy up the driveway. Jean gripped both of the guns at his thighs tightly as he stared at the open front doorway for a long moment, eyes flicking all around them after and then back to the door as Marco worked on getting the car open. His back was sweating where the pack was resting against it and the jeans and shoes he was wearing felt disgusting with the dried, cracking blood all over one leg.

Ready to give up, Marco finally got the bent end to hook around something. Marco tugged the door and the metal piece and the door swung open. He let out a relieved breath, unlocking the doors and shoving his things into the back before flopping into the seat and moving to pry the panel open. He couldn't stifle his grimace at the sudden sharp bend of his knee as he started trying to trace the right wires but he was sure it would feel better after some time sitting. "Ngh… C-come on, get in." He really hoped there was enough gas to get them away from here, memories of the way the car jolted over that woman he'd run over resurfacing briefly. 

Jean was so focused on the doorway and the feeling of dried blood on his clothes that when Marco spoke again he jolted and cursed under his breath at letting his guard down enough for that to happen. He turned and pulled off the rifle and his pack quickly, shoving them in the back seats and then climbing into the passenger seat with a grimace he barely even noticed. His leg was hot and sore and the muscle hurt more than everywhere else but he hardly registered the pain and his automatic reactions to it because he was so highly strung. Jean closed the door firmly but quietly, using his weight to pull it as hard as he could a few times once it was shut just to make sure it was done properly, slamming a car door would just make his nerves worse. “C-can you do it… I… we… just really need to get out of here.” His breaths were starting to come more quickly now that the relative ‘safety’ of the road was just on the horizon.

For Marco to describe himself as 'concerned' by how Jean jolted and how tense he was would have been an understatement. He was clearly freaked out and Marco was worried. If Jean let himself get that panicked and jumpy, he'd just wind up putting them both at risk. But he focused as best as he could on the task at hand, vowing to himself to bring it up later when they got away from this city. 

But the quick breaths and the nervous words were putting Marco on edge and making it hard to concentrate as he fumbled with the wires. "Jean. Calm down. You're making  _ me _ nervous. Just breathe and let me work." It took another couple of minutes but the car finally started with some protest. Which made Marco feel a spike of both elation at the fact it was running and fear over the attention of Ferals being drawn. The engine sounded almost ragged but for the moment it was  _ running _ and there was a good bit of gas. It would do. Slamming his door shut, Marco hurried to put the car into gear and get the it down the driveway and onto the road and out of the city. 

When Marco told him to calm down because he was making the other boy nervous Jean tried his best to quiet his breathing. Guilt at his anxiety affecting the other boy mingled with the guilt already there about everything else and Jean thought—not for the first time—that he really wasn’t cut out for this situation. Jean was the type of person who would probably be dead by now in survival horror films and games. When Marco finally managed to get the car started Jean’s hand tightened around the butt of one of his guns and didn’t release until they were moving and a far way away from the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all knew this was coming. Everyone's been anticipating the angst. Well it's time you get what you asked for. As always, we love to hear your thoughts!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving the city behind them, Jean and Marco are definitely worse for the wear, physically and emotionally. But they've survived, and that's something to be glad of, even if they're shaken and broken. And under it all, their relief to still have _each other_ boils over. But just because the outside world isn't sabotaging them at the moment doesn't mean they can't still sabotage themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. Things IRL have been... chaotic. Also, the tags list for this chapter expands to include omorashi. So just a heads up on that!

With the speed of the car, the houses rolled by and the looming city got further and further away. Yards increased in size, the houses spaced out even more and eventually the road was lined again by nothing but woodland. When that was the case Jean covered his face in both of his hands and finally let out a shaking sigh and a slightly dry sob of relief. At this rate he was going to break before they got anywhere near the ‘sanctuary’, he was going to get them killed and the thought of Marco dying because of  _ him _ made him feel sick again. Now that they were silent and away from the city Jean’s leg started to throb in much more protest and he pulled his knee up close to his chest, foot resting on the edge of his seat after kicking off his shoe. Jean wrapped a hand around the bandaged wound and squeezed it tightly, relieving the constant cramping pain but replacing it with a sharp stabbing one that made him hiss with uncomfortable frustration. But still… this was nothing compared to what he’d done to that girl.

Marco stole glances at Jean whenever he felt the road was clear enough to do so, growing more and more worried. When Jean buried his face in his hands, Marco almost debated pulling over then and there. But he wasn't satisfied they were far enough from the city. Not yet. He wanted more space, more isolation before he would feel okay to stop. 

But when Jean pulled his leg up close to him and hissed in pain, Marco did pull to the side of the road. Although he didn't trust the engine enough to turn off the car, he put it into park regardless. "Jean… Is… Is your leg hurting that bad? Do you want me to take a look at it?" He hadn't really been able to be sure if he'd given it enough attention. Hesitating slightly, Marco added another question. "Or do… you want to talk? You've gotta get out of your head, Jean. Keeping that cloud in there is just going to be a risk." 

When Marco pulled over Jean blinked and forced his jaw to unclench, turning to look at the other boy questioningly until Marco spoke. He looked down at his leg, hand still gripping it tightly and fingers trembling. “No, it’s ok. It’s just annoying and sort of… makes my skin crawl that’s all.” He lied, well only in the sense that he said it wasn’t hurting. The rest was true.

Marco narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the way Jean's fingers twitched and trembled where he gripped at his leg. He didn't really believe that it didn't hurt. There'd been so much blood… There still  _ was _ so much blood caked onto his pants… Marco didn't know how much was Jean's but the point was that  _ some _ of it was, at least, and he had to be hurting, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. 

“Can we… Can we drive a bit more? I just… I promise I’ll try to talk about it but right now I just… feel too close to that place still. I’m ok.” Jean licked his lips and averted his gaze, resting his forehead upon his bent knee as his toes curled around the edge of the seat when he flexed his calf muscle. He would talk to Marco… or try to, but he wasn’t sure what good that would be other than possibly making the other teen exasperated with him. But he had promised, and he really would once they were farther away from that godforsaken city.

Sighing, Marco shook his head in resignation. "Fine, fine…" Biting at his lip a moment, he reached out to grip Jean's shoulder lightly before trailing his touch gently down the other's arm. "When you're ready then…" Taking the time to actually put on his seatbelt, Marco put the car back into gear and started off down the road again. He had no idea where they were or what they'd find on their way, only that the direction they were heading in was the right one for the next while and that was enough. He flexed and tensed his bandaged hand idly as he drove, gripping the wheel much more loosely than with his uninjured hand and waiting to see if Jean would speak or if he would stay silent until they stopped for the night. 

Jean gave a watery smile as Marco placed a hand on his shoulder, reaching up for a second to put his hand on top of it and squeeze before dropping it back to his leg. “Mnh… thank you,” he all but whispered as the car started to move again. The miles passed by and the car smelled of dog and the sky got darker much quicker than Jean thought it should, but the droplets of rain that started to hit the windshield made sense of the dim light.

Jean cleared his throat and pulled his other foot up onto the seat, wrapping his arms around his knees and pressing his forehead against them as he began to speak, muffled. “I’m sorry… for being jumpy, and weird. I just… I’m not cut out for this, not that  _ anyone _ should be but… if this was one of those movies I’d be the first to die. I don’t react well to stress, I never have let alone killing people and being sick and struggling to travel when I’ve never travelled before. The thought of being attacked and killed… or… being the cause of you getting injured or killed just keeps popping into my head even though I don’t want those thoughts there at all. I can’t compartmentalise or shut it off or focus, and at this rate I’m gonna break. I just… can’t help thinking I’ll be your downfall in the end.” Jean’s grip tightened as he lapsed into tense silence.

When Jean finally spoke up, Marco jumped slightly in surprise at the sound and pulled over almost immediately to give his full attention. The other teen  _ did _ have some good points; he  _ was _ pretty obviously struggling. But… Marco didn't want to think about Jean getting killed or losing it… He just  _ couldn't _ . 

"Have… you considered the possibility that this isn't one of those movies but might be… the ones where the unlikely hero grows and learns to take care of themselves instead? Adventure and skill-learning montage here and there?" Marco's words were deliberately light despite how they waivered. Putting the car in park, he glanced between Jean and his own hands, picking at the bandages. "I… I mean… It's not like I  _ don't _ think about that stuff… You getting hurt… O-or me getting hurt. Or…" Marco swallowed hard before continuing in a barely-there whisper. "Or w-worse… W-watching you  _ die _ …" Nothing terrified Marco to the core as much as that thought. Marco didn't have to worry about Immunes, just Ferals. Jean was at risk from  _ both _ . Jean could be killed by actual  _ people _ who were just  _ evil _ and awful and… 

Throat tight and nausea churning, Marco swallowed hard again before forcing himself to continue, unable to look up from his hands anymore. "B-but that's… that's what keeps me going. Just… being determined to  _ not _ let those thoughts become real… I just… I have to believe we'll make it. And you have to believe it too. Just take each obstacle as it comes. There's been some terrible  _ bullshit _ . And there's probably going to be more. It's gonna be hard and we'll probably be ready to sleep for a week straight when we get there. But… we're  _ gonna _ get there. Because… we've got each other's backs. I… I don't know if I could do this without you. I… I don't want to have to  _ try _ ." 

Marco knew he'd at  _ least _ have been mauled by that girl, probably run into other threats without Jean to clear places with him. Not to mention how their idle conversation and the stupid light-hearted moments helped keep him going. Helped remind him that… that they  _ were _ still alive and they  _ could _ have a future. "I'd… I know it's only been… what, two weeks we've been going? But… turns out, I  _ really _ like you." Marco looked up from where he was picking at the gauze and chanced a glance over at Jean. "Even if you  _ are _ a prickly jerk sometimes. And I'm  _ fucking terrified _ of something happening to one of us. Or both of us. But the idea of… making it through this  _ with _ you… It helps. Thinking about that helps." Looking away, Marco's cheeks darkened. "Sorry, I'm rambling." 

Jean felt his chest tighten impossibly the longer Marco spoke. He  _ knew _ the other boy was struggling too, of course he did, but Marco coped  _ so much better _ than Jean thought he ever would. He wondered how he did it, even though Marco said he was focusing on getting to the sanctuary together and that kept him going, but even that—wonderful as the thought was—couldn’t stop the negative thoughts circling in his head like hungry vultures. Jean kept his head down as the other boy spoke, hidden in the crook of his knees as his hands and shoulders shook and he wondered again when he’d become such a fucking cry baby because he was certain his eyes felt like they were full of tears. 

When Marco stressed how much he  _ liked  _ Jean though… Jean’s breath hitched and his stomach flip flopped, head finally turning so he could look at the other boy. Jean  _ knew _ already that they liked each other, in Jean’s case for longer than this trip even if it had only been because Marco was ‘eye candy’ before. Still, hearing the freckled teen stress the word so much made Jean feel sort of odd—in a good way—and he felt his face colour in response. “Y-you can ramble all you want…” Jean said quietly, voice almost too soft to be heard over the drum of the rain on the car. He moved his hand away from it’s place—it had slipped down to grip his injured calf again at some point in the conversation—and placed it atop the other boy’s hand tentatively. Unaware of the small bit of fresh blood that had seeped through the bandage onto his skin during his gripping. “M’sorry I’m shit at holding it together… We should… find somewhere to stop for the night, it’s going to get darker soon and with the rain we’ll need to use headlights if we keep going much farther… Dunno about you but I don’t really want to do that…”

The look on Jean's face when Marco dared to look at him was something he couldn't quite name. Whether because he couldn't or that he just didn't dare to guess, he wasn't sure. But it made his heart race regardless. Marco looked down at his hand where Jean touched at it, a shaky breath escaping him. "It's okay… It's normal to be freaked out…" Marco just seemed to be a bit better at holding it together but it wasn't like  _ either _ of them was exactly doing peachy-keen. 

There was a slight dampness to Jean's touch and Marco pulled away after a moment, looking at his hand. "You're bleeding again…" Frowning, Marco looked around where they were stopped. There weren't any cars in any direction that he could see and there weren't any buildings either. Marco shut off the car engine, unbuckling himself. "We're stopping here and you're letting me get a good look at your leg before it gets too dark." The words left no room for question with Marco already turning to squiggle between the seats for another pack of gauze and dressings. 

“I think… it’d be really weird to  _ not _ be freaked out. Are there even people like that? I guess… actually.” Jean babbled slightly, the way Marco looked at him making him slightly giddy, which just confused his brain even more because it had been in the midst of angsting and anxiety before. But then Marco pulled away and frowned as he told Jean that he was bleeding. Jean pulled his hand back and wiped it on the leg of his pants with a slight shrug. “It’s…” He stopped when Marco turned off the car and  _ told _ Jean that he was going to look at his wound before leaning into the back.

“It’s ok… Marco, I just squeezed it hard I guess.” Jean’s voice was apprehensive, feeling guilty  _ again _ . Jean watched Marco moving about getting gauze and things for a long moment before sighing. Reluctantly he tilted his chair back as much as his pack in the back would allow and used the extra space to arch and pull his jeans off with a grimace at the gross crusty feeling from the dried blood. He bunched them up and put them in the footwell before pulling his leg up and inspecting the blood that had seeped into the bandage like a blooming red flower before dripping out the bottom of it where it was saturated. It wasn’t a  _ bad _ bleed as such, the blood seemed a lot but it was running lazily not flowing fast. 

"Don't care, taking a look." Marco's reply was simple and matter-of-fact. The last thing he was going to let happen was for Jean to just be stubborn and let it get septic or something. But Jean seemed to be yielding and tipping his seat back. Marco blushed despite himself at how matter-of-factly Jean just pulled off his jeans. It was one thing when he was a bit hysterical but… without that 'we-nearly-died' adrenaline in his system Marco was finding it hard to focus on Jean's wound and not his legs themselves. 

Shaking himself briefly, Marco tried to focus, scooting as close as he could until he was halfway off the seat. He frowned at the way there was blood oozing out past the bandage. Carefully, he reached out to put his hands carefully on Jean's leg. "Here… turn a bit, okay?" Marco carefully tried to maneuver Jean's leg into his lap before starting to take off the bandage, trying to not aggravate it too much. 

“Mngh.” Jean slouched in his seat, half leaning against the door as Marco moved closer to him and frowned. When the other boy’s hands were on his leg Jean flinched, though only because Marco was touching his bare skin, and it was oddly intimate despite the reason. “Fine. Just… I mean I guess… broken bones are pretty sharp. Maybe it went a little deeper than I thought.” Jean mumbled as if it pained him to admit that.

" _ Bones!? _ " Marco's words were nothing short of incredulous, eyes going wide with concern. In truth, he hadn't gotten that good of a look at the Feral that had attacked them between the crashing to the ground and the running. 

“Her fingers were worn away to the bones… or… chewed away… or I dunno…” Jean looked away when Marco finally got the bandage all the way off, he didn’t want to see what was going on down there he had witnessed enough of his blood and underneath his skin for a lifetime. 

The rain was still pelting the car and filling it with a strangely comforting white noise, thankfully there were no signs of another storm like the one they’d had to shelter through before though. Jean felt his calf twitching with irritation as Marco pulled the soiled bandage off, the layers directly against the wound sticking and pulling at it slightly in a way that made him wince but he coughed to cover it up as best he could. Both of his own hands dropped to his lap, holding the inside edges of his oversized boxers against his thighs because the last thing he needed was for his dick to flop into view. It was already bad enough that Marco was worried about him, touching him,  _ close _ to him. Jean wasn’t sure he could take the embarrassment of it on top of everything else right now.

Marco rolled his eyes slightly at the obvious attempt Jean made to cover a flinch, brows knitting together sympathetically as he tried to be even more careful. "Sorry… M'trying to be careful…" With the wound exposed, Marco hissed in a breath. Most of the scratches didn't seem to be too bad. But there was a bite mark he was worried about and one very deep gouge in particular that he was worried about. He grabbed for a water bottle, taking one of the dressing pads and soaking it. He worked on carefully cleaning off the other wounds, touch tender and light and carefully holding Jean's leg, before moving onto the gouge. He did his best to clean it and make sure there wasn't any debris, focused and concentrated. 

“Mngh…” Jean tensed his whole body slightly as Marco pressed a wet gauze pad to his leg and began cleaning it, his hands gripping at his inner thighs hard to force himself not to pull the leg away. Without the stress and adrenaline and chaos of having been chased, this time the wound treatment seemed to hurt a bit more. 

Marco was  _ not _ letting himself think too hard on the fact he was letting his touches linger a  _ bit _ more than he needed to as he carefully sprayed on antibacterial spray and put a dressing over the deep wound before starting to wrap it as tightly as he could. "Well… I think you're going to have a pretty badass scar?" Marco's tone was a bit forced in its lightness as he tied off the gauze. 

When the antibacterial spray was added Jean outright hissed and let his head fall back against the window with a dull thud as he grit his teeth and waited out the sting. “I… I’m gonna be… rugged as hell.” He was a little breathless but managed a stupid grin as he moved his head back down to watch Marco finishing off wrapping the new bandage. 

Marco muttered a series of quiet apologies for the fact that he had to aggravate the wounds more in order to hopefully help them to heal. He flinched sympathetically at the way he knew the spray had to sting. He really hoped they didn't encounter any more issues like this or any more major injuries, as vain as that hope might have been. Because despite knowing it was for the best and in the name of making it better faster, he felt  _ guilty _ treating the wound and making it feel worse, even if it was only temporary. But Jean's words had him snorting with a roll of his eyes as a slight smile played at the edges of his lips. "Regular battle-scarred survivalist, clearly."  Hands done with their task, he couldn't help letting them linger and brush lightly against the skin of Jean's leg above the bandage.

“Thank you Marco…” He tried to ignore the way his face flushed slightly at the lingering touch, the stroking fingers pleasant. “Are yours ok?” Jean asked, lifting one of his hands as he pressed his legs together, pointing at Marco’s hand and then his face to indicate what he meant.

"Mh… no problem…" Marco's touch continued to smooth against Jean's skin for another moment, drifting briefly higher. He forced himself to still before getting too carried away. He blinked when he was pointed at, cheeks flaring dark momentarily over how he'd lost himself as he scrambled to try to remember what Jean had said as he pointed. "S-sorry what? Oh… Yeah I'm fine… Just scrapes and bruises, really." 

Jean pretended that his breathing wasn’t speeding up as Marco’s hand climbed higher up his leg. He pretended that he wasn’t starting to feel that twitch of arousal in his dick and cursed the fact that it seemed to want to work at the most humiliating moments. Pushing the perverse feelings away he concentrated on Marco’s answer with a soft hum, eyeing the other boy up before nodding.

“M’kay, if you say so then I believe you. If it starts hurting more or feeling hot please tell me though?” He knew he was probably being a hypocrite asking that of Marco, but he did worry. He remembered vaguely treating Marco’s wounds the previous night and recalled they’d just been grazes—which would be sore as hell because shallow wounds like that always hurt with all the nerve endings in the skin. 

Barely catching the way Jean's breathing seemed to come slightly faster, Marco wasn't sure if it was just because the skin was sensitive or what. But then Jean was eyeballing him and speaking again and this time Marco was  _ determined _ to catch what he was saying on the first go around. He had to admit, Jean worrying about him was… kind of a nice feeling that made his heart flutter erratically. "I will, I will." 

Jean shifted in his seat after another pause, shuffling closer to Marco with his leg bent in the other boy’s lap still before lifting his hands and cupping the back of Marco’s head. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered before pulling Marco towards him and leaning in at the same time. Jean pressed a tentative kiss to the other boys lips and sighed before pressing slightly harder.

Marco made a quiet noise of surprise when Jean shifted and moved closer to him. The words and the kiss that followed them had his heart giving another flutter that almost hurt in his chest and he gave a soft contented sound. "M-me too…" At the second kiss, Marco responded more easily, grabbing at the front of Jean's shirt with one hand as he slipped the other around him to tug the other teen closer with an almost needy sound, kissing back a bit more desperately. He almost lost him, he could have lost him, and for whatever reason that struck Marco all the harsher with Jean's lips against his as he held him closer. 

Jean muffled a sound of pleased surprise as Marco grabbed him and pulled him closer, his eyes closed and his cheeks flushed as he all but climbed into Marco’s lap. It was awkward and cramped but Jean didn’t care as he lost himself in the feeling of kissing the other teen. He pulled away to take a breath and gasp out Marco’s name before pressing back in, this time open mouthed as he licked and nipped at Marco’s lips. 

Marco felt waves of arousal and relief warring in him as Jean was suddenly in his lap. He didn't think the sound of Jean gasping out his name like that would ever stop going right to his dick. Responding to the kiss eagerly, Marco couldn't help a stifled moan against Jean's mouth as he nipped back. He shuddered as he was grabbed at, grabbing the other teen tighter in response. 

Jean's body felt hot and he slipped his hands down the other boy’s back, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as they kissed. It felt desperate and heated and Jean didn’t want it to stop, even though he felt the first stirrings of arousal in his gut and groin. But as a tremble shuddered through him with a groan, his stomach also grumbled loudly and insistently and Jean pulled away with a deep blush and a guilty look. “Nh… s-sorry…” He was slightly breathless, eyes lidded and his stomach grumbled again. Jean ducked his head with embarrassment.

It was desperate, it was needy, it was  _ good _ . But then Jean's stomach growled and he pulled away and Marco blinked for a moment, breathless and dumbstruck, brain trying to catch up. After a beat, he laughed at the absurdity, moving to drop his head against the seat and letting go of Jean's shirt in the process. "Well… I think we should probably get some food into you…" He couldn't believe he'd just been effectively cockblocked—or as good as, anyway—by Jean's  _ stomach _ . Marco very much would have liked to have Jean in his lap kissing him for a while longer. But the other boy was hurt and probably in pain and he needed to eat to keep his strength up and heal. 

“Nhg.. fuck I’m sorry, that was feelin’ really good too.” Jean was somewhat mortified that his  _ stomach _ had ruined the moment. He really  _ was _ hungry though, and if he’d ignored it and carried on kissing Marco he was sure it would just keep grumbling loudly. Even Jean couldn’t get in any sort of ‘romantic’ mood if his stomach was being a bitch, not to mention it  _ ached _ with hunger right now. 

Marco nodded along slightly when Jean said it felt good. It did, it felt fantastic, and he didn't want to  _ stop _ but a gurgling stomach was  _ not _ attractive. And they needed to eat before they lost their light completely too. So really it was for the best. Or at least, that's what Marco told himself to try to quell the protestations of his body. 

“God, I’d prefer something else in me though.” Jean whined before realising what he’d said. Jean's face blossomed into a deep blush and he shifted off of Marco’s lap with a clumsy apology as he climbed back into his seat and twisted enough to yank his pack from behind the head rest. He grunted with effort but it was better than focusing on what he’d just implied, he didn’t know why it made him so embarrassed to speak like that about Marco, when before it had been so easy to make offhand lewd comments. Perhaps it was because it was all new, perhaps because it was a distinct possibility they might be able to actually fuck sometime. Pack free enough he pulled out two bottles of water and some of the food that had been inside, awkwardly handing Marco over his share before dropping his own into his lap and staring at it.

When Jean had to go and speak his retort about wanting  _ other things _ in him—apparently without thinking, judging by his reaction right after—Marco wheezed. Jean's blush mirrored the deep pink that Marco was sure had bloomed on his face as well as he blinked wide-eyed. "O-oh…" Marco's thoughts betrayed him, going directly to the condoms and lube stashed in his backpack as his brain filled with absolutely filthy ideas and images. He took what he was offered with slightly trembling hands, shifting in his seat and carefully moving his hands to his lap when he realized his jeans were likely a bit too tight from how  _ pleased _ his libido was by that idea. "W-well… m-maybe when your leg is better or something…" 

Jean covered his face with one of his hands as Marco commented saying ‘maybe when his leg was better’. Oh god that was such a wonderful thought, but also nerve wracking and new and god Jean needed to stop thinking about what it might feel like to have Marco buried inside of him. The food in his lap was sort of starting to twitch with the way his dick was responding. “M-maybe.” His voice was slightly higher in pitch than usual and Jean cleared his throat and grabbed his water for a long gulp.

Marco let out a sharp but shaky huff of air that almost came out as a wheeze at Jean's vague and embarrassed agreement, nodding slightly. Oh he  _ really _ needed to just  _ not _ let his brain go down that path. Not right in that moment. As much as he wanted to—and he  _ really _ wanted to—Jean was hungry and injured. And the last thing Marco should have been thinking about was the other teen sitting in his lap and sinking down on his cock and—Marco stopped himself. Not the time. 

Jean licked his lips and began eating his food, slowly at first because of his embarrassment, but soon his hunger won out and he was all but stuffing his face. The rain got louder and heavier for a while as they ate but soon subsided again into a steady, almost soothing fall. Jean finished off his water before his food and then sighed as he shoved the empty food packs into the cubby in the door, putting a hand over his stomach with a sigh. “Oh god I needed that. Why am I so hungry? I’m usually not too bad.”

Focusing on eating and drinking, Marco let the sound of the rain hammering against the car distract him. It was rhythmic and steady and calmed him easily by the time he was done eating. At Jean's words, Marco gave a small shrug, finishing his food before downing the last of his water. "You're hurt, that's why. Your body needs food to heal." 

“It’s hardly bad though. The wound, I mean.” Jean didn’t know, he hadn’t  _ looked _ but it didn’t feel serious, just annoying and sore. 

"It's bad  _ enough _ . They'd probably give you stitches if you could go to a doctor…" Marco worried at his lip briefly. 

Marco felt a low twinge in his body and stifled a curse. Drinking so much water had been a bad idea, particularly with the rain, and he kind of needed to  _ pee _ . He glanced out of the car at the rain splattering against the hood before looking away as it only made it  _ worse. _ Maybe the rain would stop soon. But then it would be dark. And that didn't seem like a better scenario. He huffed, sinking down in his seat and adjusting his legs together. "W-we should get some rest soon…" Maybe he could ignore it if he fell asleep and managed to sleep through til morning. 

Jean glanced at Marco and his posture, the other boy seemed uncomfortable somehow but Jean couldn’t really place a reason as to why he would be. Unless it was because they were both somewhat embarrassed and aroused. Shifting in his seat Jean turned to grab the blanket from the back, shuffling as close to the mid console as possible before throwing the blanket over both of them.

“You think you can sleep right now? Maybe we can set off a little sooner, or at least just be well rested. Last night was… mnh… I didn’t sleep well.” Jean shrugged a shoulder, curling up a bit and ignoring his need for the bathroom because it was cold and wet outside, he could wait til morning. Probably. Jean reached across the space between them, under the cover, and stroked his hand along Marco’s arm gently, soothing.

Squirming a bit closer to the center console as well, Marco tugged the blanket a bit higher on himself, pinching his thighs tighter together. "I… probably, yeah." He had no idea if he could; he wasn't particularly tired; but he could damn well  _ try _ if it meant he could ignore his bladder until sunrise. Sunrise. Which was… easily over ten hours away still. And the rain was pattering on the car as the only sound. The freckled teen choked down a whine as best as he could. But then Jean was  _ petting _ at his arm. And it was such a nice gesture and gentle and tender. But  _ god _ it made it so much  _ worse _ . Marco couldn't help biting his lip around a partially stifled whimper, curling his legs in slightly and pressing them together harder. He wasn't going to  _ make it _ ten hours. 

Steeling himself, Marco drew in a breath before letting it out shakily. "Jean… I… uhm… mgh… I have… I have t-to pee… So uhm… I-if you could not… mh… w-with your hand cause it's… just making it worse… And I… r-really don't… w-wanna have to go out there. Ngh…" He was sure his face was red as he looked away, focusing on the dashboard as if it held fascinating secrets rather than looking at Jean's face. 

Jean blinked owlishly as Marco stifled a whimper and he paused his hand’s movements, he couldn’t understand the noise and thought the other boy might be feeling unwell. But then Marco spoke, and told him, and the almost  _ humiliated _ tone to his voice and the desperation made Jean’s cock twitch and his gut burn low down with arousal. Oh god, not now, not like this. This was the worst possible situation for one of Jean’s more obscure kinks to make an appearance. It wasn’t fair.

“O-oh… Oh god I’m sorry.” Jean moved his hand away abruptly and tried to be subtle about how he shoved it between his legs beneath the cover. He was definitely hard enough that it would be visible if he were on his back. But Marco sounded  _ so _ desperate… Jean stifled a whimper of his own before shifting. “Y-you could just use your empty water bottle? I mean.. I-it can hurt if you hold it too long…”  _ Or you might pee yourself… _ Jean blushed hard at the thought, his cock throbbing between his legs.

Marco blushed only darker when Jean pulled his hand away and apologized, looking down slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, it looked like Jean was shoving his hand between his legs under the blanket but… that had to be a mistake. It was only his peripheral vision, after all. But then Jean made a slight sound and shifted and Marco's brows furrowed slightly in confusion. He couldn't think about it too much though, distracted by how his bladder was cramping. 

"W-what… i-in h-here?" Marco looked over at Jean with wide-eyes. The blush on Jean's face looked embarrassed and he could only assume it was because he felt as awkward for suggesting it as Marco did for considering it. But waiting was just going to make it worse. "I… Mngh…" A frustrated, conflicted, and desperate whine escaped him. "Ngh, fuck, fuck it, fuck, shitfuck, fine. Just… t-turn that way or something." 

Snatching up the empty bottle, Marco turned away as best as he could with a bit of awkward shuffling and shifting. He couldn't help glancing back over his shoulder briefly—not that he thought Jean would be  _ looking _ because that would be  _ weird _ but just trying to convince himself he had  _ some _ degree of privacy and could retain  _ some _ degree of his dignity. Marco undid his pants and set to his task. It took a moment to get over the feeling of utter humiliation burning in him over being less than an arm's length away from his  _ boyfriend _ while doing this but need won out. He couldn't stifle the noise that escaped him, nothing short of a  _ moan _ of relief that only added to how mortified he felt. 

The way Marco swore out of embarrassment just made things worse and Jean made a muffled sound of affirmation as he shifted. Covering his face as Marco glanced back to see, Jean lay on his back and grit his teeth, trying to force his body to calm down even though he’d been wishing it would react on nights past. Even the sound of Marco unzipping his jeans got to the white haired youth, and the final blow was Marco’s outright  _ moan _ of relief. Jean made a strangled noise that was drowned out by the sound of the rain and Marco peeing.

Soon the deed was done and Marco closed the bottle, shoving it under the seat where he could pretend it didn't exist as he slumped back down into his seat, cheeks flushed a dark crimson. "Y-you should… probably too… So you don't… just have to later." He finally dared to look at Jean. 

When Marco said Jean should go too he agreed he probably should but… “I… I can’t…” He whimpered, hands still covering his face. He was embarrassed and felt like a complete pervert and he was hard as a fucking rock, tenting the blanket across his lap as he lay across his seat on his back. There was no hiding it, he was breathing heavy and flushed and even if he was on his side he was  _ sure _ Marco would just  _ know  _ anyway.

Marco turned in his seat slightly at the  _ whimpered _ words. He couldn't? Why wouldn't he be able to? Taking in the way Jean's face was buried in his hands and the pinkness of his ears, Marco heard the heavy breaths. His eyes drifted down to Jean's chest, watching the harsh rise and fall. It… kind of almost seemed like… Jean was… Marco's eyes glanced down the other teen's body further on an impulse and his eyes went wide. 

"O-oh… I… u-uhm… y-you're…" Jean was hard.  _ Really _ hard, judging by the way the blanket was tented and how he was breathing. But… from… what? He'd been fine before Marco had— _ Oh _ . A humiliated sort of squeak escaped the freckled teen. "Y-you… is… that… u-uhm… my fault? S-some kind of… thing of yours?" Jean had… gotten hard while Marco was desperately relieving himself. And Marco wasn't… entirely sure how to feel about that. But he was pretty sure he wasn't  _ nearly _ as horrified as he felt like he  _ should _ have been. Just… a bit mortified and very curious and a bit confused and  _ very much _ more embarrassed than he already had been and yet also kind of… oddly electrified by the reaction. 

When Marco’s voice rang out into the car, almost stating the obvious before pausing, Jean whined again and sunk down his seat more, knees pressing against the dash. The squeak and Marco’s following words had Jean squirming. “I-I’m so sorry!” he blurted, voice trembling. He felt guilty and perverted and Marco might  _ hate _ him now or at least find him gross. It wasn’t something Jean had ever been open about before, very much a tumblr only thing so dealing with it in real life had never been an issue before. Lying next to your boyfriend, close and hearing the other boy so desperate was completely different to the everyday urinal encounter at school. 

“I.. can’t help it. I… y-you sounded… so desperate a-and that’s so hot and  _ you moaned _ ok and I just… F-fuck I’m sorry.” Jean still hadn’t moved his hands from his face, couldn’t because he was sure Marco was looking at him with some form of disappointment or disgust. He brought his knees up, feet resting on the edge of the seat either side of his butt in hopes to hide his erection at least a little more, though he knew it was still apparent. The blanket was thin but heavy. 

Marco could only stare at the bulge in Jean's boxers even as the other teen squirmed and apologized. But then Jean was explaining himself and Marco was blushing darker again. He couldn't help but squirm slightly at the idea that Jean had a thing for him sounding  _ desperate _ . But that only brought other questions to Marco's mind. Questions that had his dick twitching slightly. 

"S-so… the desperate thing… is that just with uhm… that stuff or is that… in general? Like… edging or orgasm-delay stuff too?" Marco bit his lip, turning a bit in his seat so that he was facing more towards Jean. He definitely didn't have any problem with something like  _ that _ . Marco was well aware that by even asking he was probably crossing some sort of taboo kink line. But  _ fuck _ Jean was so hard and Marco  _ really _ wanted to touch him. 

Jean shook his head, the way his hands were pressed over his face making him feel smothered and he finally dropped them, gripping the blanket above his groin and trying not to touch himself. “I… I mean… s-sort of.. both I…” Jean lifted one of his hands in a vague gesture in the air between them, fingers trembling. “I like.. O-omorashi.. O-okay? B-but also… Just… I dunno I just got really excited!” Jean’s heavy breaths hitched and he turned his head to finally look at Marco, pupils blown wide with arousal despite his embarrassment and guilt.

Marco was trying to not stare at Jean's crotch. He was really really trying. He was failing spectacularly. But he was  _ trying _ . His face flushed darker with embarrassment at the other's confession about liking omorashi. That was the kink for desperation and pissing your pants, wasn't it? He had a thing for  _ that _ ? But Jean was looking at him then and Marco forced himself to look up, breath hitching at the way his boyfriend's features were utterly drowning in lust and want. And it looked  _ so good _ on him. 

“I’m sorry I… I tried really hard not to let it get to me. The thought of you b-begging or… m-making me.. beg is just…” Jean’s cock throbbed and he muffled a soft sound of mortified pleasure, closing his eyes. His boxers felt damp already and Jean wanted to crawl into a hole and die, it had been what seemed like so long since his dick worked like it was supposed to. They’d  _ both _ been frustrated by his body’s lack of erection in the days past yet now it decided to pop up with something as awkward as Marco taking a leak.

Jean was speaking and talking about  _ begging _ and Marco bit his lip to stifle a sound because the thought of Jean begging for him was  _ really _ nice. Or he wouldn't mind the other way around. But the broken sounds he imagined Jean making… It was a very vivid mental image that had definitely caught the interest of Marco's dick, breaths coming a bit quicker to compliment it. "Hmmh… I… that's… kind of hot, actually. Th-the begging thing." Letting out a shaky breath, he reached across the space between them, slipping his hand between Jean's torso and bent legs. Pushing Jean's hand out of the way, he let himself give a firm squeeze to the bulge under the blanket, a satisfied groan slipping past his lips at the sensation under his touch. 

“It… is? Huh.. y-yeah it is…” Jean said, his own breaths quickening slightly as Marco seemed to respond positively to the comments. When Marco’s hand pushed his own out of the way Jean felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him but that was quickly replaced with shock. Shock and a loud moan that cracked his voice as Marco squeezed his erection. “Oh- fuck…” Jean arched his back, pushing up into the touch and letting his legs fall open slightly. But that seemed sort of… over eager? Not that it mattered really, there was no one here to judge his need for physical contact other than Marco, and Marco was the one initiating it anyway.

Jean sat up abruptly, turning in his seat as he leaned over Marco and gripped the sides of the other boy’s face. “T-that’s cruel…” He said, voice low as he leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to Marco’s mouth. It wasn’t tentative or gentle, Jean’s kiss was harsh and needy and slightly sloppy as he licked and nipped at Marco’s mouth. 

Marco couldn't help but be slightly amused at the surprise in Jean's tone. He shuddered openly at the way the other moaned for him and arched into his touch. The way he spread his legs and pushed into the contact was so fucking  _ responsive _ and Marco only partly managed to stifle a groan. He would have done it again but Jean was sitting up suddenly and grabbing at his face. Marco let out a surprised and questioning sound that dissolved into a moan at the harsh kiss. 

Responding eagerly, Marco countered with licks and nips of his own, cock pulsing and throbbing slightly in his pants. Grabbing at Jean's shirt, Marco moved to tug him closer breaking away from the kiss only briefly to speak between small nips. "Mngh… Fuck,  _ Jean _ … C-closer. God…" He wasn't satisfied until the other teen was in his lap where he could grind against him with a long and steady motion. Marco let out an almost guttural moan at feeling Jean's dick actively  _ hard _ against him for a change before catching him in another desperate and needy kiss. It was good, it was  _ really _ good. 

Jean didn’t even try to stifle the shuddering groan as Marco licked and nipped and grabbed him back. The heat of earlier - before Jean’s stomach ruined the moment - was back but  _ much _ more potent now that the invisible line about touching dicks had been broken. “Y-yeah. Oh god yeah.” His breath hitched and Jean all but clambered into Marco’s lap, straddling him and grabbing fistfulls of the other teen's hair as he rolled his hips down into the grinding motion Marco was making. The pressure and heat was amazing and Jean bit Marco’s lip almost hard enough to hurt before lapping at it with his tongue.

Marco all but keened when Jean grabbed at his hair and rolled his hips, a needy moan escaping him into the harsh kiss. His hands moved to grip at Jean's hips harshly, a whimper working its way out of his throat at the way the other teen bit at his lip. Between the hard press of Jean's cock against his stomach and the friction against his dick from Jean's ass, Marco was almost dizzy with it.

Jean thrust his hips down again, pressing his cock against the other boys stomach and his ass onto Marco’s lap.  _ God _ it felt amazing. A sense of  _ finally _ permeating the air between them as Jean moved his kisses from Marco’s mouth to his jawline and then his neck, tugging at dark strands of hair in order to get the other boy to tip his head to the side. It made it much easier for Jean to bite and suck and lick the column of Marco’s throat that way, the tip of his erection leaking heavily against the front of his boxers. The single button holding the front opening together barely did it’s job as the hot flesh beneath throbbed and strained against it. “This is.. This is.. Nh.. ok.. Right?  _ Fuck _ … s’alright?” He gasped, nipping the area just below Marco’s left ear.

When Jean was kissing down his mouth and his jaw and his neck and  _ tugging _ at his hair, Marco tipped his head willingly to the side, exposing his neck to the other's movements. He rolled his hips up again, tugging Jean closer to him as he did. "F- _ Fuck _ , Jean… Yes, god yes… Nnh!" It was more than  _ okay _ . Marco couldn't help another moan, his hips bucking up more harshly at the nipping. The storm continued on, rain hammering against the car, but he could barely hear it, much less care, over the sounds of their harsh breaths and his own heart thrumming in his ears.

Jean uttered a relieved noise as Marco said this was ok, the worry about it being too much too soon or whatever abating somewhat as he all but dry humped the other boy’s stomach. For now thoughts of Ferals and hostile Immunes and endless miles of travelling were out of his mind. The rain was a soothing backdrop to the contrastingly intense moment they were sharing within the car, windows steaming with their heavy breaths. “M-Marco-oh...ngh!” Marco’s harsher bucking had Jean dropping one of his hands from the other boys hair and he started to all but grope along Marco’s shoulder and chest and side.

After an apocalypse, time moved… oddly, Marco realized. On the one hand, they'd hardly been traveling together for a week and a half and they hadn't even kissed a week ago. On the other, they'd managed to nearly get themselves killed. Jean had pushed Marco out of harm's way and gotten hurt in the process. And that had a way of putting things in a different perspective. Rather than 'is it too soon', Marco instead found himself wondering 'should I be letting myself get attached'. But the way Jean moaned out his name had him sure he didn't have a  _ choice _ in the matter. He wanted this, they both wanted this.

Jean’s fingers were digging into Marco’s pectoral muscle over the shirt as he found and kept to a harsh, steady humping motion. He moved his mouth up along Marco’s neck and jaw again and then kissed the other boy again, instantly tonguing his mouth with an almost impatient fervour whilst his thighs trembled either side of Marco’s hips. His leg twinged slightly but he ignored it for much more favorable sensations, though the position was odd - Jean was much more used to being on the receiving end of someone in his lap, not being the one  _ in _ the lap.

Marco's hand stung where it gripped at Jean's hip, the friction of their movements making the bandage shift slightly and rub against the scrape on his palm. Jean's groping at his chest was… unexpected and Marco wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. And it twanged at the deep bruise there as well. But the other teen was rolling in his lap perfectly and Jean's lips were back against his and he couldn't care. He groaned into the kiss, slipping his hands from the other's waist and hesitating a moment before letting his fingers slip under the fabric of Jean's boxers and down to grope at his ass and grind against him more firmly. Jean's skin was hot and firm but pliant under his touch and an almost violent shudder ran up Marco's spine at the sensation.

Jean kissed and sucked and nipped Marco’s lips and tongue as they moved, his heavy pants of breath making the kiss sloppy and messy. He wasn’t thinking of anything else in the moment, lust and pleasure taking up every miniscule space there was in his mind and completely dominating it all. Marco’s groan into the kiss was like music to his ears and when the other boy slipped his hands down and groped his ass skin to skin Jean let his head fall back, mouth hanging open and eyes closed as he all but rode Marco in a lewd approximation of the real thing.

“Marco- Marco oh god ngh- s’feels so good… so fukken-  _ shit _ .” He gasped the words out hoarsely as he lost rhythm for a moment, the sensitive tip of his cock slipping free of the boxers through the front opening and the sudden change in texture from the crisp cotton to the softer fabric of Marco’s t-shirt caught him off guard. Jean ducked his head, chin to collar bones as he looked between them to how firmly his dick was pressed there, clear precum oozing from it surprisingly heavily and he gave a half amused chuckle. Then he gasped as he watched himself thrusting against Marco. Mouth open and eyes half lidded and almost black with how dilated his pupils were. “N’ghhonna get yer top messy…” He breathed, another chuckle covering up the distant roll of thunder.

Marco's eyes roamed freely over Jean when the other teen tipped his head back. As freely as they could when they kept threatening to close at the sensations running through him as Jean was all but riding him and grinding down against his lap. But  _ god _ did he look good like that, coming undone around the edges. When Jean lost his pace and tipped his head down, Marco couldn't help but look down as well, seeing the head of the other's cock between them. He bit his lip around an almost desperate moan, the sight of it leaking making his mouth water. His eyes moved back up to Jean's face, taking in the sight with another slight tremble.

"I really couldn't give a fuck…" The lust was evident in Marco's tone, a harsher edge seeping into it as he moved one hand up to grab at the back of Jean's head, tugging him close. Marco bit at Jean's lip before moving to nip and suck at his neck instead, his other hand staying behind on the white haired teen's ass to continue kneading and aiding in rolling their bodies together. His breaths were heavy pants, skin flushed with need. At this rate, he was going to be dangerously close to cumming in his pants but the idea of  _ stopping _ for any reason was just not something he could even consider in his current state.

Jean muffled another soft laugh as Marco said he couldn’t give a fuck about the mess on his shirt, the sound came out croaky and tremulous from how aroused he was. He didn’t resist when his head was pulled down, all but purring at the bite to his lip before outright moaning again at the way his neck was the next target. God did he love his neck being mouthed at like that, Marco’s lips and tongue were hot and wet and he could feel his skin bruising with love bites in the other boy’s wake.

Every single one of Marco’s actions and sounds were driving Jean crazy, he could easily have cum a while ago from the sheer force of his lust and those noises but he’d at least managed to hold off. That was until a loud clap of thunder rolled in overhead, voluminous enough to make the car vibrate and Jean jerked hard in his shock, adrenaline instantly flooding his system. Then he felt himself cumming between their bodies, thick and wet and he choked on a breath as he tensed and trembled all over, slamming his head down onto Marco’s shoulder in shock as he rode out possibly one of the most intense orgasms of his life with a high pitched whining whimper.

Marco liked Jean's laugh, particularly when it was breathy and half-croaked with his intense arousal. And his  _ moans _ … Every one had Marco twitching and throbbing against the other's ass. He soaked up every reaction he could, content to keep grinding against him and climbing higher, in no real rush to cum right away. Not when he could enjoy  _ this _ for a while longer, at least.

But then there was a loud clap of thunder that Marco felt in his chest as it resonated through everything. And Jean was jerking hard against him and dropping his head against his shoulder as he shook and trembled. And  _ whimpered _ at a pitch that Marco didn't know Jean could even  _ make _ . Marco gasped slightly, a confused and surprised noise escaping him as his brain pieced things together, movements stuttering to a halt. Jean had just… cum against him. From… the jolt of the thunder. Marco was silent for a moment as his brain processed, unable to help himself from slowly breaking into a stifled snicker that in turn broke into a light chuckle. "Oh god… Jean… Did… did you just… From…  _ thunder _ ? I mean… I've heard of scaring the piss out of someone but never scaring the jizz out of them…" Marco really shouldn't laugh, he knew he shouldn't. But it was just too absurd to his overtired and exhausted mind, still foggy and not thinking right with lust, although that was quickly being overtaken by his amusement.

Jean was panting harshly as he tried to catch his breath, lungs burning and heart pounding hard enough to almost hurt as he came down from his high to the sound of… laughing. Marco was  _ laughing _ at him. For cumming. Jean had been flushed with arousal and exertion throughout the whole thing anyway, but now he was painfully red, his entire head, down his neck and even his shoulders and chest felt fucking red as humiliated tears prick his eyes. He’d gone from nervous embarrassment about his sort-of-kink, to hot arousal and now he was back at embarrassment - no, it was worse than that. In fact Jean wanted to crawl in a hole and die as another loud rumble of thunder made the car shake.

Jean felt his breath hitch, it had been  _ really _ good, but then he came because of a surge of adrenaline and he was being laughed at and he could even sort of feel Marco’s dick going a little bit soft beneath his ass. Jean didn’t want to cry like a shunned girl or something so he did what he did best. He got irritated. Jean opened his mouth and bit Marco’s shoulder right where it met the base of his neck,  _ hard _ . Then he pulled away - still red enough to make his skin tingle - with a pout and a frown and watering eyes before clumsily tucking himself back into his boxers and sort of rolling off of Marco to his own seat again. Back to the other boy and arms wrapped around himself sulkily.

Marco really  _ really _ tried to contain his laughter. He  _ really _ tried. But he just  _ couldn't _ . His chuckling had at some point turned into laughter and his boner was nearly gone. "S-sorry… I'm sorry… I just…" But then Jean went and  _ bit _ him.  _ Hard _ . And the sound that ripped its way out of Marco's throat in response was somewhere between a squeak and a moan and a squawk strangled together on his words. "NHGHH!  _ FUCK! _ "

His own eyes watering and clenched halfway shut, Marco almost missed how Jean's eyes were watering when he pulled away. Almost. Sure, he'd been an ass for laughing but… He didn't do it on  _ purpose _ and that  _ hurt _ . Still, Marco glanced over at how Jean was curled up and very obviously  _ sulking _ and sighed. Sure it hurt but he'd hurt Jean too. Just… differently. "Jean… Please don't be upset… I'm sorry… Fuhck that hurts…" He reached up to prod at his neck, touching the bite and--Were those  _ teeth marks _ !? Yes. Those were teeth marks. That was going to bruise… interestingly. "Fuck… But… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to laugh, it was just… I'll… I'll make it up to you okay?"

Jean pressed his lips together hard enough to make them tingle, his jaw aching as he grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to just go to sleep. Sure he was being immature but he’d spent most of his life doing everything possible to avoid being the target of ridicule because it just  _ scared _ him. Then Marco of all people was laughing at him for actually feeling good even if it was brought on by shock. Even the way the older boy has sworn and sort of moan squarked didn’t make him feel any better, and  _ now _ guilt was starting to weed it’s way in because he’d bitten really quite hard. He wanted to apologise but he still didn’t trust his voice and he moved one of his arms to swipe at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“I-I’m gonna remember that.” Jean said finally, voice wavering and crackling oddly. His dick finally worked and he’d  _ finally _ got to do more than just kissing with Marco and then the butt had to go fucking  _ laugh _ at him. Jean really wasn’t sure if he could make the uncomfortable tide of hurt embarrassment go away any time soon so he wiggled about a bit before pulling the corner of the blanket over his curled form and trying to sleep. Thunder still rumbling periodically but already far away as the rain drummed a beat on the roof of the car.

Marco huffed, slinking down in his seat, grimacing slightly at the way his shirt was now sticking to him where Jean's cum had soaked in. He looked over at Jean's form. When Jean finally spoke, Marco couldn't help but sigh. "I'll do whatever you want, okay? Whatever will make it up to you. M'sorry…" God, he felt like an ass. They were finally getting somewhere and he'd had to go and cock it up because he couldn't stop himself from  _ laughing _ . Who the hell would laugh over something like that? Aside from  _ Marco, _ obviously.

When Marco said he’d do anything and make it up to him Jean just sort of wanted to start plotting ways to humiliate the other boy as much as he’d felt that evening. He couldn’t  _ help _ how immature and petty he was being when he felt so… sort of… betrayed. Maybe he was just more fragile because it was his first time  _ really _ feeling anything more than sexual attraction for another man. He really,  _ really _ liked Marco, his heart still fluttered and his stomach still flip flopped at the mere thought of the other boy but that also meant he felt more vulnerable and nervous.

A pathetic sort of frustrated whine warbled its way past Marco's lips and he ran his hands through his hair in aggravation before making a resigned sound. Hopefully Jean would get over it by the morning, at least. Maybe sleep would help. If not… he didn't want to think about that. "Sorry. Again… Good night, I guess…" Marco slunk down further in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest tightly and closing his eyes. He didn't care for the blanket, simply shutting his eyes and curling up as best as he could, turning himself slightly away from Jean in an attempt to not dwell too much on it and to try to sleep.

Jean didn’t say anything in response to the additional apology, but when Marco said goodnight he sort of grunted softly and pulled the cover over his head with a shiver. It took longer than he’d like to fall asleep that night, he was sort of cold and it was weird not having Marco against him and his leg hurt. Not to mention the chaotic guilt and angsting and hurt tumbling about inside of his head, the fact he’d needed the toilet before all of this began long forgotten for now as he drifted off to another restless sleep.

Marco couldn't sleep for a long while, drowning in his guilt as the chill soaked into him. He'd messed up. He'd really messed up. And if Jean  _ didn't _ get over it overnight… He'd have to do something to make it up to him. He didn't know  _ what _ but he'd have to find something. The first time they'd gotten to really do things like  _ that _ together and he'd  _ laughed _ . Cold and sore and oddly  _ lonely _ without Jean at his side, he finally drifted into a restless sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions run high in the wake of Marco's unfortunate lapse in judgement. Jean can't seem to let go of his grudge. But maybe an actual hot shower for the first time in what feels like forever can soothe his battered ego and get him to open up. After all, Marco would do just about anything to fix this if Jean would just give him the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. So we had a pretty regular weekly update schedule for a while there. But life's been kinda... hectic. So it looks like Pathosis is gonna be on more irregular updates for a little bit. We'll _try_ to keep it to every two weeks for you guys though. So just bear with us. We **are** still working on this piece and we have **a lot** of exciting things in store for these boys. Most of which we hope you'll enjoy. (But it wouldn't be a Hei/Kai piece without some bumps in the road, right? :D) As always, comments are _very_ much appreciated! We love to hear your thoughts!

Jean woke up with a shudder and a gasp, shoving a hand between his legs as he held his breath. That dream was definitely one of those ‘omen’ dreams. He’d dreamed about running water and over filled bathtubs and over and over again he’d just be using the goddamn toilet and he’d woken up thinking he’d wet himself. But thankfully he hadn’t and he glanced at the morning sky for a moment before looking over his shoulder at Marco sleeping. Good.

Fumbling with the door, Jean got it open and managed to swing his legs out of the side of the car before he felt the intense need to pee just overwhelm him and it was all he could do to scoot to the edge of the seat at the same time as yanking himself free of his boxers before he was peeing. How stupid. Still, he let out a soft groan of relief as the pain in his lower abdomen subsided and he tucked himself back in after a moment. He hadn’t even made a mess, luckily, and he pulled his legs back into the car and moved to shut the door as quietly as possible.

Marco's sleep had been light and restless anyway. The bright sun in the wake of the rain wasn't doing his continued unconsciousness any favours either. But it was the sound of Jean scrabbling with the handle of the car that woke him up with a slight start. And he flinched quickly. Everything hurt. His bones ached with the chill that had seeped into them from sleeping in an uncomfortable position with no blanket. 

Looking over at the source of the noise, Marco saw Jean sitting with his legs out of the car. Just… sitting there? No… no there was sound.  _ Oh god _ , Jean was  _ pissing _ . Marco could only think back to the events of the night before that had led to everything that had happened. Still, he knew he should look away. He felt like he was very  _ very _ much invading Jean's privacy. But he was half asleep still and his brain was reeling. And Jean was turning back into the car. And closing the door. And Marco really needed to look away. But he was still kind of just gawking at Jean. "Uhm…" The blank sound slipped out unbidden. 

Jean froze when he heard Marco’s voice, then he turned his head slowly to look at the other boy and made a strangled noise. Marco was  _ gawking _ at him, Jean could only assume he’d  _ watched _ him pee too. Like… at least Jean didn’t  _ watch _ Marco pee the night before right even though he had a thing about that sort of stuff! He could feel the intense blush burst into being on his face but Jean turned away with a sniff and folded his arms across his chest because he wasn’t going to just be humiliated all over again. 

“W-what?  _ You _ filled up the empty bottle last night s’not my fault. I’d been holding it since you went.” Jean grumbled and shifted enough to move his chair back into the proper position. His leg ached all the way through the shin bone and he reached around between his seat and the door to his pack, yanking out what felt like the pain killers and a bottle of water awkwardly. He wasn’t going to lean between the seats and  _ that _ close to Marco… Not yet. Things were still a bit too raw for him. 

Marco regretted the sound immediately when Jean turned to look at him. If there was any chance of Jean having gotten over the night before, there it went right out the window. Marco looked away hurriedly, too little too late, and buried his face in his hands. "N-no! I mean n-nothing! It's f-fine! I just… I just woke up, okay!? I wasn't… I mean… " Marco's words were croaky and dry with sleep and muffled by the hands over his face but he hoped they'd still be audible. "J-just forget it. Don't worry about it. Please. I'm gonna… let's just get going." Marco sat up, adjusted his seat, and buckled in before starting the car. 

The way Marco sort of stumbled over his blurted words just made him sound more guilty which in turn made Jean feel more embarrassed. It was weird that Marco was so frantic about his denials, considering it was  _ just _ Jean taking a leak. He could understand if Marco had a thing for it like Jean did but judging by his reaction the night before he didn’t so Jean was stumped. Sighing he poured out two of the ibuprofen and then recapped the bottle, shoving it back in his pack as Marco said they should get going and started the car even though they’d barely woken up. He took the pills with the help of some water and then sat in silence with the other teen. 

Marco pointedly kept his gaze away from the other teen's direction as he started out down the road. Great. Now things were  _ doubly _ going to be awkward between them. This was what he'd been afraid of. Terrified of. Granted, he'd originally worried it would be because he came out to Jean. But this? This was worse. He'd only barely gotten a label on what they were and now his  _ boyfriend _ was probably never going to let him near his dick again. If he even forgave him for this in general. Oh god. If Jean didn't forgive him… And they had to go their separate ways because things were too awkward between them… Marco's hands clenched and unclenched around the steering wheel as he tried to think of something to say. "A-at least the rain's gone, right?" The weather. He couldn't think of anything better than  _ the weather _ . If he wasn't driving, Marco would have thumped his head against the wheel. 

The sound of the tires on the road was the only thing breaking the silence until Marco spoke up about the weather. “Hnm.” Jean half-hummed in response, clutching his water bottle in a way that made it compress and then pop back into it’s original shape with a crinkling sound. Still, Jean watched the trees go by and the wrecks of cars every so often as they drove along the deserted highway. He hadn’t eaten yet but in truth he wasn’t all that hungry this morning, probably due to his lingering sour mood. But like… everyone argued sometimes right? And he and Marco were so  _ new _ it wasn’t like they weren’t going to have some teething issues getting used to each other's respective quirks and personalities.

Marco let out a deflating huff when Jean only gave a vague sort of hum as his reply. Along with a clenching of the water bottle that came across as sort of… annoyed? Of course he was annoyed. Why wouldn't he be annoyed? Marco cringed regardless. His worries churned in his mind as they drove and he tried several more times with attempts to get Jean talking. If they talked, they could move past it faster, right? Get back to some semblance of their previous 'normal'. Anything. Anything but the awkward atmosphere in the car that seemed to Marco at least to be almost stifling. He just wanted to forget the night before had ever happened. 

Jean tried to force himself past the stubbornness of his foul mood as they journey went on. The odd atmosphere between them was entirely his fault because he couldn’t seem to drop what had happened the previous night. But every response he gave Marco seemed short and sharp or just downright sarcastic and Jean had inwardly winced a few times. He’d always been this way, god only knows how Hitch had lasted as long as she did, though she was as stubborn as Jean. 

Lost in his head between desperate attempts at extended conversation, Marco hardly noticed the time passing. Soon enough, it was a few hours later and they were driving past a small but well-equipped-looking RV and trailer park. He hadn't been planning on stopping for another few hours. But an RV meant an on-board tank of water if it wasn't drained. Which meant at least cold showers. Hot maybe if the propane tanks were intact. And likely some clean, left-behind clothes. And a bed. …Which also potentially meant sharing a bed with Jean who likely didn't want anything to do with him but… These things also usually had some sort of couch that turned into a second bed at least, right? That was fine enough for Marco. He spoke up again with a question despite the fact that he was already making as though to turn into the parking lot. "Hey… You wanna stop here? Might be able to get washed up." 

When Marco asked if they should stop Jean blinked out of his internal angsting and looked out of the window, the RV park seemed convenient and it would be a welcome break from the awkward, too small space of the car. “Nh… yeah.” He said, shifting in his seat as he uncapped his water and drank some of it. Hopefully there would be a shower and clothes here, he felt far too gross and filthy after everything that had happened—mainly shooting a little girl in the face. There was no way Jean wanted to put those crusty jeans on again  _ or _ the shoes. Although he doubted there would be any shoes around so he at least wanted to rinse them thoroughly in something. As they pulled up and stopped Jean peered out at the few RV’s closest to them and squinted. Well, at least they looked pretty high end.

Marco eyed the property as he shut off the car. It looked decent enough. And decently abandoned with no movement in sight. And not too terribly ransacked with most of the RVs still having intact windows. Overall, it looked pretty good by the standards they'd been going by for their temporary shelters. Definitely better than the city they'd left behind, at least. He unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to gather up his weapons before making any move to get out of the car. 

Opening the car, Marco stretched out the stiffness in his muscles. He still felt cold, though he wasn't sure how much of that was psychological from the tension in the atmosphere. Still, he was glad to be out of the car, at least. It gave him enough pep to try again, cocking his head in Jean's direction. "Take your pick. We should clear at least a bit of the property but… You can pick which one we'll take for tonight, if you want?" 

Jean watched Marco get his weapons and get out of the car before sighing heavily at himself and doing the same. He was still just in his boxers but they were long enough to be shorts and to be honest it was always a better choice than those damn jeans. The shoes? Eh, he could go without those too for this sort of area, he’d walked on much worse with bare feet at any rate. He shifted the holster around his hips and made sure it was comfortable before gripped the butt of one of the guns and responding to Marco’s question. 

“Whichever one has water, gas and a decent sized bed with a duvet.” He said simply. “Oh, nothing that’s gonna wanna kill us either.” Jean added with a little more sarcasm. He winced internally again and wanted to punch himself. Fuck, he had to fix this. But he didn’t know how. 

In response to the sarcastic reply, Marco huffed out a sigh, his eyebrow twitching slightly in irritation.  _ Yes _ , he'd cocked things up and yes, normally he didn't even  _ mind _ sarcastic banter. But right now it was only irking him and coming across as bitter and snide. "Right, right, no sharing a bed with a Feral. Got it." Drained, his response didn't seem like nearly as much of an upbeat quip as he'd been intending it to be, coming out much more resigned than he'd hoped. 

“…M’gonna make you make it up to me when we’ve checked this place out, washed and eaten something. Jus so… y’know… you know.” Jean kept his eyes roving around the area, ducking for a moment and crouching to make sure there was no movement from underneath and behind any of the RV’s. It was clear.

As Marco checked around the far sides of a few of the structures, he felt like he was alternating between a resigned sort of dread that this was just 'it' and a puppydog sort of hopeful longing that they'd just get over this quickly. He didn't know if he wanted to continue trying to drown the other teen in apologies or keep trying to pretend nothing was wrong and he felt like he'd been switching between the two all day. But that was the problem, he didn't know what  _ worked _ with Jean in terms of conflict resolution. He'd never had to deal with pissing him off before. When Jean spoke up about making it up to him, Marco found himself perking again. "Anything. Really. Please. Just… Please." Yep, back to puppydog. Still, at least the property seemed clear and Marco could feel himself relax slightly. "So… Preference for tonight then? Most of these seem to have tanks and there's not much chaos so I think they'll all probably be good to go?" 

The eagerness in Marco’s tone made Jean’s stomach sort of flip flop with both excitement and guilt and something in him sort of… flipped. But he swallowed the sensation down for now as they finished and he looked around. All of the RVs in sight were huge and looked sort of pompous but  _ god _ they looked fucking amazing after how often they’d slept in a car. Jean pointed to the nearest RV, brown and cream with the word ‘Reflection’ scrawled across the side in cursive. “There’ll do.” He said, hoping it had fuel and power. 

Marco eyed up the RV that Jean pointed to. It looked nice, at least. Really nice. They all looked nice. Although the word scrawled across the side was a bit of a kick in the gut as far as Marco could see. 'Reflection', he'd been doing nothing  _ but _ reflecting all day. Still, he doubted that Jean had even thought about it like that, probably only picking it because it was the closest and convenient. 

He walked cautiously over to it and peered in the windows he could see anything through from where he was on the ground. It  _ seemed _ quiet and empty. He tried the door… locked. Jean sighed and rubbed his temples because he really sort of just wanted a shower to get any remnants of Feral goo off of him now. “S’locked.” Jean motioned to the door and gave a sort of embarrassed, expectant look at Marco because  _ he _ was the breaking and entering guy. It was ok to expect Marco to do that, right? It was better than like… smashing any windows or anything, and Jean would probably break the lock completely if he tried. 

Watching Jean try the door and sigh, Marco was still debating whether he should jump at the chance to speak up and offer to help when Jean motioned at the door and looked back at him, the words hardly registering. Marco swallowed hard. Jean wasn't exactly  _ asking _ him. Just commenting that it was locked. Still, he couldn't help but rush into action, hurrying to dig out the kit. It was a strange sort of lock from what he was familiar with but Marco managed it after a few long moments of fumbling. He opened the door, stepping to the side and letting Jean go first with a slight bow and a lightly teasing but hopeful quirk of his lips. At least Jean still  _ needed _ him for something. 

Jean watched as Marco fiddled with the lock as usual. He had no idea what the fuck he was doing or how it all worked other than perhaps the freckled teen was magic, but soon enough the door clicked and Marco opened the door. The way he stood aside and bowed just made Jean blush awkwardly, pressing his hands together and fumbling with his fingers in a nervous gesture as he eyed up the interior. The guilt about his mood was increasing quickly and he eyed the car and their things before deciding he could get his bag a little later. It was secure enough here that it was safe. Probably. 

“Um… th-thanks… I mean… Yeah… thanks.” He chewed his lip slightly as he walked past Marco and into the RV. Jean found himself opposite the kitchen area  and looked around the space in awe. To his left there was a small wooden table with two chairs, and beyond that two large leather arm chairs that could easily fit him  _ and _ Marco in one. They were sat opposite a fireplace and large screen TV, the kitchen looked fully kitted out and to the right of that were three steps up towards the bedroom and bathroom. Jean felt his breath catch, comfort.  _ Actual comfort _ . Soft things and warm things and  _ clean _ things. He thought he might just cry as he sagged against the counter with relief. He had no idea how the fuck anything worked but even if they had to have a cold wash it was  _ comfortable _ in here.

Marco couldn't help but feel a bit satisfied at how Jean blushed and squirmed in response to his gesture. Another time, another place, he would have enjoyed exploiting that. But there were only so many chances for cheesy gestures in their lives now. Still, it didn't hurt to take them where he found them. Following Jean into the RV, Marco locked the door behind them for the moment before looking at the space. "Oh…  _ wow _ …" Marco gawked. 

They still had to clear the bedroom and bathroom but as far as Marco could see, the space seemed abandoned. And  _ fantastic _ . He looked around, letting his hand trail against anything he could. There was a light coating of dust from disuse but it was clean and shiny and even compared to the other places they'd found to stay, it was practically immaculate. Marco moved on to check the bathroom—also very very nice—and bedroom. He narrowly resisted the urge to collapse onto the bed then and there, instead checking that his weapons were safely clasped away and heading back out into the main space and looking around to find the controls for the water heater and the electric, managing to get things running after a few moments of fumbling. "I don't think anyone's been here since the season ended." This place was nice enough to be a house and the idea that someone would only use it for summer vacations was staggering but it definitely seemed to be the case from how things had actually been properly shut down rather than hurriedly abandoned. 

Jean hummed in agreement at Marco’s response to seeing the inside of the space. If there had never been a virus he’d never in his life set foot in a lace like this, he guessed, nor would he have  _ actually _ met Marco let alone become his boyfriend. Which reminded him all of a sudden of their issues and as Marco cleared the RV and turned on the electric and water heater his shoulders sagged heavily. He was a butt. Marco was a butt too but Jean was more of a butt for being a whiney little bitch for so long about his hurt pride. Still… he wanted Marco to feel at least  _ a little bit _ of the level of humiliated he’d felt the night before. In the  _ same sort of way _ ; I.E. Sexually. 

Marco tried to keep the space between himself and Jean enough. But not  _ too much _ . He still wanted to be close to him, even if Jean  _ was _ pissed off at him. Even if he kind of deserved some of that at least. He just hoped he'd get a chance to make it up to him sooner rather than later. Although with how casually Jean had mentioned it again before, he felt slightly apprehensive. Why  _ had _ he brought that up like that? 

Jean chewed his lip as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the space not knowing what to do with himself. He really wanted a shower but if Marco wanted one too he should probably let the other boy go first? He tentatively moved into the hallway and peered into the luxurious bathroom, there were even  _ towels _ that looked softer than anything he’d seen in a while and Jean fidgeted. “Uh… I… well… do you wanna use the shower? Or like… eat? Or like… I mean… ngh.” Ok this was fucking awkward. He’d been sulking all day and now he was floundering for some sense of normality when everything just felt  _ off _ still.

At Jean's slightly floundering question, Marco couldn't help the way his mind wandered. Would there be enough hot water for two showers? Or would one of them have to wait? Was Jean offering him the first shower? If it weren't for the disaster of the night before, Marco would have been tempted to jibe that they should share. Hell, he still  _ was _ tempted if only to try to push Jean out the other side of this awkward vibe between them. He shook himself out of it, hoping the blush on his face wasn't too obvious. 

"Uh… whatever's fine. Showering would be… Nice." Food sounded good as well though and Marco gave a small shrug. "We'll take turns eating and showering then maybe? You can… shower first if you want. Or I can just go really quick." Marco's shirt might have been slightly crunchy in front from the dried cum in the fabric but Jean was definitely more of a mess overall. "Should grab the bags so you can put new bandages on that leg when you're done though." 

Jean pressed his lips together at Marco’s sort of not-answer of an answer. Then again his question hadn’t really been specific and Jean shifted his feet before eyeing up the door to the outside and then the shower and then the kitchen and finally Marco again. He wanted the littler girls brains off of him, but he also sort of wanted Marco to know he didn’t hate him and maybe soften the blow of what was to come because now he’d thought of it he really…  _ really _ needed it to happen. “Y-you can go first.” He said as he stepped away from the bathroom and went back to the main door, opening it and glancing around before going to the car for their bags. 

Jean should have taken them in one by one, he really should have. But Jean was impatient and so he came back in with Marco’s bag on his back and his own sort of awkwardly cradled in his arms. As soon as he was in he stumbled slightly and dropped his pack to the middle of the floor between the kitchen counter and the dining table. “Ugh.” It was quickly followed by Marco’s bag and Jean dug out his shoes that he’d shoved in the top of his bag before moving over to the sink in the kitchen and shoving the dirty, blood stained one in there. Turning the cold tap on until it was just covering the shoe Jean squirted dish soap in and sort of poked the footwear around a bit to get rid of some of the filth inside.

"…Thanks." Marco gave a smile in Jean's direction. He narrowly resisted the urge to comment on Jean bringing both bags in at once  _ again _ . The other teen was really going to hurt himself doing that one of these days. But then he saw Jean digging out his bloody shoe and his gut churned. No, it was definitely better to just let him do whatever he needed to do for the moment. 

Quickly making sure the door was locked, Marco headed for the bedroom to see what he could find. With a small tank and a propane heater he didn't think it would take long for the shower water to heat. And even if it wasn't  _ hot _ , it would at least be  _ warm _ . The pickings were sparse, obviously only suitcase overflow. But there were a few pairs of pants and shirts. He didn't think the pants would fit him, but at least he thought they might fit Jean. But he grabbed a clean a shirt and a pair of boxers anyway. Better clean and a bit snug than sitting around in his own sweat. 

Marco's eyes roamed the large bathroom once he'd wandered into it and he briefly wondered if they could just stay there. If they had a truck, he would have very seriously considered whether they could just take one of these with them. But between fuel and time… It wasn't something they could afford to do. Still, they could enjoy it for the night. 

Jean didn’t look at Marco when the other boy was doing his thing, his eyes glued to the shoe in his grasp as the water turned an ugly rust colour from the blood. When Marco shut himself in the bathroom Jean allowed his shoulders to sag and the sick guilt overtake him. He didn’t want to remember, but seeing that blood and… there were hard little bits of  _ something _ stuck to his shoe… brain matter? He gagged and dropped the shoe, heaving a heavy sob as he squeezed his eyes shut. The sound of the shower wasn’t at all soothing as it would usually be and Jean wondered if he should just go without shoes until they found some sort of store to get some more. The hard bits of gunk weren’t coming off, almost cement like as he used a butter knife to try and pry them away from the canvas fabric. 

Finally, Jean just threw the knife into the sink with a plop and a clatter and sagged back against the counter island behind him, scrubbing his hands against the shirt he was wearing to dry them before putting them over his face. 

Marco stripped and washed himself, peeling off the bandages on his face and hand when they started to go limp from the water. Hot water was a blessing to his sore muscles and he tried to not use too much of it, getting himself washed and then dressed quickly. He was still toweling at his hair when he came out of the bathroom, the shirt snug against the lines of his chest. "All yours, Jean." 

When Marco re-emerged and said Jean could shower, he muffled his thanks and kept his gaze to the floor as he shuffled past—mostly. He  _ did _ glance at Marco on his way and the way the shirt clung to him lessened the dark misery that had shrouded him, slightly. Jean gave Marco a watery smile as he passed, uttering “Thanks…” Before locking himself in the bathroom and stripping, standing under the shower and scrubbing harshly at his skin. Especially his legs and feet.

Marco frowned at the way Jean all but slunk past him and the wobbly, watery smile he was given. He looked awful. And Marco couldn't exactly blame him for that. But still, he wished that he could just  _ fix _ it, wrap the white haired boy up and just make it better. But things didn't work like that. Especially while they were in their… odd state of argument or whatever this was. But then Jean was gone and Marco let out a long sigh. 

Marco moved around the kitchen quickly, poking through the cabinets. There were some decent 'staple' foods that were still good and Marco eventually wound up cobbling together a meal for them between some soup—that he could actually heat up for once—and some crackers that were somehow still in-date. It wasn't really  _ that _ long ago that things went to hell, he supposed. But it definitely  _ felt _ like it was. With the soup heating, Marco glanced at the bathroom door before setting to work scrubbing at the offending footwear as best as he could. It wasn't perfect by any means but it was a lot better than the state it had been left in. After swaddling it in the towel he'd been using and stepping it down a few times to squeeze out some of the water, he set it by the door. He grabbed the other to put with it as well before dishing up their food and sitting down to wait. 

Jean peeled the bandage off of his injured leg and dropped it to the floor of the shower since he couldn’t get to the bin without actually getting out. He didn’t  _ want _ to look at the wounds but he had to, cleaning around them with just the water and wincing at how tender it was. The areas around the bite and the deepest gash were bruised and tender, the injuries scabbed over though the one on the worst of the injuries was very fragile and new. Jean grimaced, thinking it was just about big enough to be able to stick a finger into the flesh—a couple of inches long and deeper than he’d thought. Gross. 

When the water was cold Jean turned it off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist and then one over his head as he went through the door into the bedroom to see if there were any clothes. There were boxers and a few shirts and he scrubbed himself dry before putting one of each on, they fit him better than the last lot of pilfered clothes at least. Then there were the pants…On closer inspection of the two pairs there Jean noted they were ladies clothes and he sighed. Who cares though, right? If they fit. He chose the sweats for ease of movement and comfort and pulled them on. They were a sort of heather-grey in colour and  _ so soft _ he almost groaned at the feeling, pulling the cuffed leg of one up to his knee so his injuries weren’t covered and could get some air. 

They were…  _ tight _ , not uncomfortably so but he could feel them clinging to his hips and ass and thighs. However, before analysing too much more he smelled food and his stomach growled harshly. Jean left his hair damp and went into the kitchen living area to where Marco was sat waiting for him with food on the table. Jean sat down and gave a slightly less upset smile, though it was obvious he was still feeling a little unsure and awkward around the other boy. “Th-thanks for the food…”

Marco looked up when he heard Jean coming back towards him. And he couldn't help but stare at the way the pants clung to the other's body. He could feel his dick give an interested twitch and he looked sharply back down at the table to keep himself calm, swallowing hard. That wasn't somewhere he was going to go. Not now, at least. "Yeah… Of course…" Marco gave a slight smile, tilting his head in a nod. 

Once Jean was sitting down with him, Marco started in on his food. His stomach ached from not having eaten really all day but the heat of the food helped to soothe it easily. Hot food really  _ was _ a blessing. Marco hoped that whenever they got to where they were going, they at least had the facilities for decent meals. They had to, right? Surely. Even if it meant campfire roasted meals or whatever, just  _ something _ consistent would be amazing. 

Marco was quiet as he ate, focused on his thoughts and his stomach until he was finishing the last of his soup. His mind wandered back to what Jean had said earlier about making it up to him and he couldn't help eyeing the other teen out of the corner of his eye, curious but not quite bold enough to ask. 

Jean ate his food in silence, the hunger almost overwhelming him now he became aware of it even though he’d eaten the previous night. The soup tasted like heaven to him, in the days before the virus he would have found it bland and maybe even somewhat gross but right now? Right now it was heaven from a can. Jean ate all of it, finishing for once  _ after _ Marco and when he put his spoon down and looked up he blinked at the other boy. Marco was sort of staring at him—even though it was from the corner of his eye Jean could  _ see _ it and he knew it was because of this weird atmosphere between them and he  _ hated _ it. 

Feeling his breath hitch and his stomach do a sort of flip flop, Jean stood abruptly. He was going to do this before he chickened out.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident in the car where Marco had laughed at Jean and an entire day spent in awkwardness, Jean was determined to get them back on level ground. So it was only fair that Marco got to feel that sexually humiliated too… right? At least, that was how Jean saw it. And if it happened to make both of them realize that a little humiliation could be a good thing… Well… You learn something new every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooboy, it has been a while, hasn't it? Sorry, all! Real life can be stressful & chaotic sometimes! But fear not! Pathosis is not abandoned! We have this entire story outlined all the way to the end and there's a lot more in store for these two! 
> 
> Hopefully these 8k words of sexual exploration, communication, and affection are worth the wait! As always, comments & kudos are appreciated!

Feeling his breath hitch and his stomach do a sort of flip flop, Jean stood abruptly. He was going to do this before he chickened out and this continued and ok maybe he was a huge pervert for feeling so impatient about it too. But it was  _ fair _ that Marco got to feel that sexually humiliated… right? Jean grabbed Marco by the wrist, firmly but not harshly and tugged the other boy to his feet before leading him into the bedroom where he released him. 

Feeling his cheeks flush when he accidentally caught Jean's gaze, Marco looked away for a brief moment. But then he felt the other's hand on his wrist, tugging him to stand and  _ tugging him towards the bedroom _ and he fumbled out a surprised and confused noise. 

Jean crawled up onto the bed and moved the pillows about a bit before sitting back against them, shoulders resting against the wall as he hugged one of the pillows to his chest almost protectively. It also served to hide his crotch and he looked off to the side a bit as he stated his demand. “Jerk off in front of me.”

Jean was climbing onto the bed. Clutching a pillow to himself. Marco frowned in confusion. He wasn't sure what the other boy's intention was. Did he just want to talk or something? But then why had he dragged him in here? But then Jean was talking, ordering him moreso really. And Marco's jaw dropped as he spluttered and fumbled for a response. "Wh- wait  _ what _ ? What like… just like that? Here? Now!?" His dick twitched and stirred at the idea and Marco wasn't  _ entirely _ sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing at this point. He couldn't just jerk it on command. Right? His dick seemed to disagree. 

Jean felt his own dick twitching at the look on Marco’s face and the prospect of him doing… well…  _ that. _ He nodded when Marco blurted about doing that  _ now _ and  _ here _ . “Where else? When else?” He ducked his head a little, hiding the lower half of his face as he bit his lip. Considering he’d hardly been able to look at Marco all day through guilt he was doing nothing but staring now. 

Marco's hands flailed slightly in something that was probably meant to be some kind of emphatic gesture but his brain was too short-circuited on the idea to really even know his own intentions. "Y-you just want me to… to what… to just whip it out and… have at it? Just like that?" 

Fixing the freckled teen with a hot gaze and shifting slightly on the bed, his shoulders lifted mildly as Marco said about just ‘whipping it out’ which was funny but Jean stifled the amusement. Instead, his voice came out thick and slightly hoarse as he imagined what was  _ probably _ going to happen. He really hoped it would. “Y-yeah. Well… no… you dun have to show it to me… you can keep it in your boxers… if you wanna…” He was blushing. He was blushing hard but he pretended he wasn’t. “J-jus get on the end of the bed and do it and cum while I w-watch. You said you’d do anything r-right?” Fucking voice, trembling and stuttering. Still, he’d gotten his point across.

Marco swallowed hard when Jean confirmed that he wanted him to do it here and now. And the  _ look _ he was giving him… Marco couldn't help but shift slightly against the increasing pressure of his groin.  _ Fuck _ , Jean had a point. Anything. He'd definitely said that. But he hadn't expected it to be something like  _ that _ . But… at least he didn't have to just… put it all out there like that. That would have been too much to handle. 

Still, Marco felt a surge of spite. If he was going to do this, he was going to try his damnedest to make Jean squirm for it. Cheeks flared red, he did his best to gather himself, swallowing down the lump in his throat to give Jean his best innocently flirty smile. "Fine. You're right. But if you get…  _ into _ it, you do it too. Deal?" Marco didn't wait for an answer, taking his time undoing and slipping out of his jeans before moving up onto the bed, kneeling with his legs spread just slightly. The tenting of his underwear was already alarmingly apparent and he let out a shaky sigh, letting his eyes fall shut. 

Jean lifted a brow, lower face still hidden by the pillow as the other teen said Jean should jerk off too if he ‘got into it’. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work, but Jean shrugged a shoulder and felt his blush deepen as he finally gave a short, sharp nod. Then Marco was moving, stripping and climbing onto the bed and oh god his dick was already tenting those boxers beautifully and Jean’s breathing picked up a bit. 

"But for the record, you brought this on yourself." Marco had popped one eye open to look at Jean as he spoke but let it fall shut again. Despite his red face and the slight tremor to his hands, Marco leaned back on one hand, bringing his other hand up to his chest and working its way down his body until he could roll his hips up into his palm through his boxers. He let out a deliberate groan, moving his hand back up and under his shirt, pushing it up slightly as he skimmed across his stomach. 

“S-so did you…” Jean retorted as Marco said he’d brought  _ this _ on himself. He decided he’d bring Marco upon himself every damn chance he got as he watched the other teen's hand sliding up and down his body, head tilted back and eyes closed and Jean felt his cock throb hard between his legs from behind the pillow.

Drifting his touch down again, Marco finally let his fingers move under the fabric of his underwear, gripping at himself and stroking with a moan. He snapped his eyes open, leveling his gaze at Jean's face. He'd seen more than enough clips online to know what looked good, but doing it  _ himself _ was another matter. Marco's face was impossibly red but he managed to keep his voice mostly-level when he spoke. "Is… this… what you wanted…?" 

Marco was gorgeous, Jean knew that already, but watching him slip his hand into his underwear and start stroking himself just made a thick groan tremble out of Jean’s mouth.  _ Oh god oh god oh god! _ Jean was flailing internally. He’d watched plenty of porn where guys got themselves off like this, hell Hitch had even done this in front of him but neither of those were anywhere near as  _ hot _ as Marco in this moment. Jean licked his lips and let his eyes trail up to catch Marco’s gaze, it felt like the air in the room was suddenly much hotter and almost stifling, he didn’t even try to hide his heavy breaths into the pillow that was clutched hard against his chest and embarrassingly his hips twitched enough to lightly sort of hump the pillow. “Y-yeah… Like that…” Jean said in a thick voice eyes lingering on Marco’s face for a moment before blatantly and boldly dropping to watch the other boy's hand in his boxers again.

Hearing Jean groan sent a slight tremor up Marco's spine. Yes, that was what he was hoping for. Watching as Jean licked his lips and trailed his gaze up his body, Marco did his best to not squirm under the look in his eyes. He just barely saw the way the other teen's hips twitched up and felt a satisfied rush of pride. But then Jean was looking at his groin again and Marco let out a shaky breath. 

It was an odd blend of confidence and self-consciousness that battled under the tide of Marco's arousal. But he did his best to push through it. He gave a few long and steady thrusts up into his hand as he stroked himself. Marco let his eyes fall shut again to take some of the nervous pressure off, a soft moan escaping his lips. He teased around the head of his cock with the tip of his index finger before drawing his hand back and up to his lips, suckling off the taste of the precum on it with a teasing sigh and pleased smile. 

Watching the way Marco thrust into his hand was almost mesmerizing. Jean was sure he was probably already leaking. His cock was achingly hard and he had to bite his lip harshly to keep his focus solely on Marco and  _ not _ on his own penis. Then Marco moaned again and Jean rolled his hips into the pillow because a glance up told him the other boy had his eyes closed so he could get away with the harder motion for a moment. Jean watched the hand moving up, saw the light sheen of precum on the fingertips and and  _ oh fuck _ that was hot. Marco sucking his fingers clean.

Sliding his hand back down his chest, Marco spread his knees a bit more, the fabric of his boxers straining at the tent in his pants. He teased at himself, down his thighs and back up again before going back to the stroking motions. His heart hammered in his chest but somehow this, putting on a bit of a show for his boyfriend, had him almost dizzy with the lusty fog in his brain. If Jean had asked him to, he would have dropped to all fours and started sucking him off then and there. But otherwise… he was content to tease. To work himself up towards his peak and hopefully work Jean up in the process. 

When Marco’s hand moved back down to tease himself all, Jean wanted to do was shove his head between the other boy’s legs and nuzzle and just fucking pull his dick free and suck him because Marco looked so very  _ very _ tasty right now. Jean groaned loudly, and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he moved. Uninjured leg sliding between Marco’s spread thighs as Jean shuffled down the bed a bit. He pinned the other boy with a hot stare as he slowly lifted his bare foot and pressed it over the bulge in the Marco’s boxers, hard enough to still the hand beneath that was wrapped around his cock. “Rub yourself against that.” His voice was hoarse, pupils wide and black with arousal as Jean pressed his foot in a slight grind against Marco.

Marco bit down a groan of his own when Jean groaned in response to his actions. But then there was  _ pressure _ against him, pushing against his hand and his dick. He gasped, eyes snapping open. His eyes flicked from Jean's face to his groin and back up to Jean's face again. Jean's  _ foot _ was pressing against the bulge in his pants. The words filtered into his brain as he felt the  _ grinding _ and he let out a sort of squawking squeak, choked together with a moan from the sensation. 

"Y- wh- what?" Marco's words were breathy, a slight groan escaping him at the look in Jean's eyes. He moved his hand away from himself shakily and leaned back slightly, the uncertainty obvious in his movements. If it were possible, he felt himself go even more red. "You want me to… Against your…" Marco squirmed, biting his lip and biting down another sound when the movement only increased the pressure. 

Jean sort of loved the look on Marco’s face when what Jean wanted sank in. It made him feel oddly powerful as the other boy stuttered and went even redder and all but squirmed under the request. Marco didn’t  _ have _ to do it, but the odd power play thing that was going on now had Jean moving one of his hands to grip himself behind the pillow. “Yeah… get off on it.” He said, groaning at the end as he felt Marco’s cock twitching against his foot. 

The freckled teen whimpered slightly at the confirmation that yes that was actually what Jean wanted him to do. Marco  _ really _ didn't want to just  _ hump _ Jean's  _ foot _ like some kind of dog. That was just mortifying. Which was… sort of the point, wasn't it. Oh. But the look Jean was giving him was  _ so good _ and the insistent twitching of his dick was driving him nuts… Marco worried at his lip in debate for a moment before looking down and away as he rolled his hips up against the pressure on his cock with a soft moan, half convinced his face might burst from the intensity of his blush. It was  _ weird _ , really weird, but if he didn't think about it too much it also felt  _ good _ . 

The way Marco looked away was adorable and hot all at once and then the other boy was  _ moving _ and Jean got embarrassed too because it was really happening and he found it really fucking arousing. He couldn’t help but grind and twist his foot a little into Marco’s motions, his own hand slipping beneath the soft fabric of the pants and boxers he was wearing and wrapping around his erection as he watched Marco. This was really, really lewd. They’d gone from nothing but kisses and awkward boners to an accidental moment of jizzing and now  _ this _ and the sudden intensity of it was odd. Jean held the pillow over his groin as he jerked himself, still feeling odd about his own body after the day before and Marco’s reaction. He wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to cum with the other boy anywhere nearby but for now it was  _ good _ and the point of this was for  _ Marco _ to get off and get embarrassed. Not Jean.

Marco couldn't believe he was actually  _ doing _ it. It was  _ humiliating. _ Part of him wanted to  _ cry _ but a larger part just wanted to  _ cum. _ He rolled his hips against the pressure repeatedly, effectively humping Jean's foot. But the grinding and twisting motions on top of that had him squirming. His lips parted around heavy breaths and at this point he wasn't sure how much of the reddened tone of his skin was embarrassment and how much was arousal but he also wasn't sure if he  _ cared _ . 

It felt good, really good. When Marco dared to glance over at Jean, he could see his arm moving in a characteristic motion despite the shielding of the pillow and he moaned out, trembling and shifting his hips in a longer motion. Jean was actually jacking himself off to this. To Marco so obediently making a fool of himself. And the freckled teen couldn't help but find that  _ hot _ for some reason. After a short while longer, Marco could feel himself getting closer, movements becoming erratic and breaths drawing shorter. 

Marco’s panting and moaning and how red he was just hit all the right buttons for Jean. Marco was  _ humping his foot _ and that was fucking weird, ok? But somehow it was really fucking hot too. Jean did  _ not _ have a thing for feet, but the sheer control and  _ domination _ —or near—he had right now was amazing. Jean let his injured leg slip outward to the side a bit, spreading his legs to make his own motions easier as he carried on watching Marco. 

Marco was still entirely unsure what to make of their current situation. This was… weirdly kinky and considering that a few days ago they'd barely even done  _ anything _ , it was a bit overwhelming. He tried to keep watching Jean's movements but it was too much, was all too much. "J-jean… ngh… M'gonna… nh.. Fuck… close…" He wasn't sure whether Jean wanted him to just keep going and get off like that or finish himself off or what. 

Marco's speeding up told of how close he was even before he moaned out his warning and Jean pulled his hand from around his cock to let it rest over the pillow with it’s twin again at that—cumming at the same time would mean he would  _ miss _ it and he really wanted to drink in every part of Marco’s reaction. “Cum right there… j-just like that.” He breathed, voice cracking around the words as he gasped heavily and began to move his foot in a deliberate up-and-down motion along the hard, straining length of the other boy’s cock.

When Jean stopped his movements against himself and started  _ focusing on him _ , Marco squirmed. And the other boy was  _ telling _ him to just cum there like that.  _ Ordering _ him to. And  _ oh god _ he was actually  _ moving _ against Marco's cock. And this was so wrong. It was his  _ foot _ , he shouldn't have been getting off with a  _ foot _ . But Marco's breaths were short and his muscles tense and he was  _ so close _ . And it was only a moment later when Marco was bucking his hips up more harshly, head tossed back with a broken moan. "Nn… gh… J- _ jean! Fuck! _ " His hands fisted in the sheets under his grip as he came suddenly with a series of smaller, jerky movements. He gasped and panted heavily, trying to recover from the force of the unexpectedly strong orgasm. 

Jean kept watching as Marco came undone. The other boy was so very tense and trembling and panting and Jean groaned loudly as Marco threw his head back and said  _ his name _ along with a profanity as he came. The hands fisting in the sheets was a minute detail he didn’t miss from the corner of his eyes but Jean’s main attention was on the way Marco’s mouth hung open and then feeling of hot wetness that slicked the underside of his bare foot. He pressed a little harder for a moment before pulling his foot away completely. 

Jean was panting hard too and he sat up and crawled over to the breathless boy before him with a soft growl, he grabbed Marco with an arm around his waist and a hand in the back of his hair, pulling the other boy into a hard, sloppy kiss. The pillow was still between them and the cum smeared against it but Jean still couldn’t help bucking his hips into the added firmness of Marco behind the plush cushion. 

Marco whimpered when Jean pressed against him harder before pulling away. He was barely coming back into himself when he heard the  _ growl _ and then he was being gathered up and tugged in. Marco groaned into the harsh kiss, kissing back as much as he could with the daze he was still in and feeling how Jean bucked against him.  _ God _ he wished the pillow wasn't there between them. 

“G-good boy…” Jean barely made the words come out, reeling from the intensity of his arousal and considering how easily he could get to the bathroom to finish because… yep… Still awkward about Marco seeing him cum now. 

Jean's words had Marco blushing heavily again, an incoherent stammer of sound escaping him. His hips may or may not have jerked against the other teen in response. "Jean… Fuck that was…" He shuddered, biting his lip. "Weird but  _ wow _ ." Surprisingly wow. He licked his lips for a moment before moving forward suddenly, pushing the white haired boy onto his back and pinning him down by the shoulders, smirking down at him. "So… That make us even then?" 

Jean pressed back against Marco’s unexpected jerk and he muffled a moan at the sensation as Marco spoke. It had been  _ weird _ and  _ wow _ , Jean agreed, but it was also sort of oddly cathartic. Marco had definitely been embarrassed. Jean wasn’t expecting Marco to move so suddenly, to be shoved back to the bed and have the other boy above him, pinning him. His breath hitched and caught in his throat, his heart hammering hard as his already flushed face burst into an impossible shade of red and his cock throbbed almost painfully beneath the pillow still resting across his stomach and groin. 

“Y-yeah…” His voice came out in a squeaking, high pitched tone and Jean cleared his throat before looking off to the side with intense, hot embarrassment over the sound. Something about Marco pinning him down… the  _ force _ of it… being beneath him… Jean really wasn’t used to this angle of things and he was  _ so _ hard. Shifting his legs a bit he pressed them together and pushed his butt down into the mattress to stop himself just arching and trying to grind against Marco. “U-um… I need… I think I should… Go use the bathroom now…” His voice was still in that higher, cracking tone and he felt himself begin to tremble, once again beginning to breathe more heavily.

Marco bit down a groan at how fantastically red Jean turned beneath him. The  _ squeak _ of his tone had Marco smirking again. But then Jean was saying that he was going to  _ go _ . He wanted to just let him go jack off on his own after  _ that _ ? No, Marco wasn't going to let that happen so easily. But Jean's tone seemed shaky. As if he was struggling with himself. And Marco could  _ feel _ the hard outline of Jean's cock even through the pillow, although muted and more faint. 

So instead of climbing off of him like he knew Jean expected him to, Marco dropped his head instead. He tugged at the other's hair, tipping his head to the side to bite at his neck teasingly, laving his tongue against the bruises from the night before. "So you want me to let you go then…?" 

Jean yelped as Marco dropped his head and tugged on his hair, he followed the motion easily and couldn’t stop his eyes closing as the other boy bit his neck. It shot almost violent shivers of pleasure through him because he was already so turned on, so close. But he  _ couldn’t _ because he was just sort of… anxious that something else would happen and Marco would laugh again and he felt entirely too vulnerable. 

"Mm…  _ No _ ." The word was short and simple and punctuated by a nip before Marco continued. "You wanna cum? You can do it  _ right here _ …" The dark-haired teen rolled his hips down, ignoring how overly sensitive his own cock was in favour of the much more important task of teasing Jean. 

Jean made a whining noise as Marco said  _ no _ , followed by another nip of teeth. “Nghh _ hhh _ !” He couldn’t stop the noise escaping as suddenly he was graced with the firm roll of Marco’s hips. His body twitched and then he broke and arched hard, hands dropping and fisting first in the sheets and then fumbling upward again to grab Marco’s biceps. “S-nngh… d-don’t… laugh again…” He whimpered the words out breathlessly, his feet twisting in the sheets with each jerky buck of his hips because he was so close and it felt so good but he was still so self-conscious. 

Marco loved the way Jean trembled and whimpered for him. He almost wanted to simply lower himself down and suck him off then and there just to see him come undone. But he looked like he was already close to losing it and Marco wanted to be able to take his time enjoying something like that. Then Jean's hands were grabbing at his arms and he was jerking against him in return for the roll he made of his hips and Marco shuddered at the reaction. 

"I won't… I won't." Marco murmured his reassurances against Jean's skin. Not even if a goddamn clown cuckoo clock went off, he wasn't making  _ that _ mistake again. He wasn't going to do that. Not when the teen under him was jerking against him. "You look so good right now… So fucking hot… S'okay…" He gave another nip before pulling back so he could see the other's face, rolling his hips down again. "You gonna cum for me?" 

Jean felt a bit more reassured when Marco assured him that he wouldn’t laugh. The anxious tension draining out of his body as Marco complimented him. It was so strange hearing that, all but writhing beneath another guy… beneath  _ Marco _ . Jean choked back another moan and let himself get lost in the sensation now. The pillow was annoying and he was going to make a mess of the track pants and have to wear the thin combat type things instead but fuck it this was so worth it. “Y-yeh… ngh… Yeah- Marco…” He turned his head to look at Marco as the other boy leaned back, eyes half lidded and mouth hanging open around his heavy breaths. 

The way Jean relaxed was noticeable and Marco felt himself relax as well. Jean's movements kept Marco's rapt attention as he could see him coming undone around the edges. But when the white haired teen looked back at him, mouth open around his breaths and eyes half-closed and fogged with lust, Marco made an effort to memorize everything. Jean was normally hot but this… this was something else entirely. Like this, he was fucking  _ stunning _ . 

Jean's everything was taut with how close he was and one of his hands slipped down to thread his fingers with Marco’s uninjured hand, the other staying on his bicep. “Haaah— c- _ cumming _ !” He choked out the word and couldn’t keep his eyes open, squeezing them shut as his body arched sharply and he came hard with a stifled mewling noise. Jean let his head fall to the side again as the last remnants of his orgasm washed over him and then he sagged back against the mattress and tried to catch his breath. Flushed and trembling and messy.

Marco gasped slightly and looked at his hand briefly when Jean threaded their fingers together. He felt his heart lurch at the gesture, giving a squeeze to the hand in his. That wasn't fair. He wasn't allowed to be  _ sweet _ on top of everything else. But Marco was distracted by the way Jean choked out his warning and arched as he came. His eyes darted across the other's features, drinking in as much of the image under him as he could before his boyfriend was collapsing back against the mattress. Marco watched him for a moment longer before he couldn't resist leaving a few light kisses and nips against his lips. "That was definitely… less of a disaster.  _ Fuck _ , Jean…" He moved to tip off of him and to the side, letting out a relieved sigh. 

Jean hummed softly at the feeling of Marco kissing him and he pressed back briefly before the other boy pulled away. He felt a smug sort of happiness wash over him when Marco said his name and swore again and he licked his lips, squeezing Marco’s hand in his as he moved away. Jean didn’t want to let go yet. “Was good…” He mumbled croakily, voice still holding the crackle of arousal and release that lingered. He turned his head and looked at Marco with a lazy smile as he rolled onto his side and then he grimaced slightly at the sticky mess in his pants. “Sorry… bout bein sulky…” He felt his blush return but he meant it, even if his apology had been all but whispered. 

Marco couldn't help a slight huff of a chuckle when Jean rolled towards him and grimaced. He gave a slight squeeze to the other's hand. "S'okay. Let's just… we're good now, right? You're done avoiding me?" Marco bit his lip slightly, eyes scanning Jean's face. He thought things would be okay now but he found himself just needing to confirm it outright. He'd paid his penance, right? 

“Yeah, we’re good.” Jean said in response, chewing his lip for a moment. “I’m sorry about that. I just… I mean I’m…hngh.” He made a frustrated sound. He didn’t really want to voice how stupidly insecure he was about everything—especially his own body and how  _ different _ it was now. There were more urgent things to be worrying about anyway right? But despite that Jean couldn’t get over his weird self-loathing every time he saw himself in a mirror and if Marco saw him  _ naked _ … He just looked  _ weird _ and blotchy and his goddamn pubes were white like an old man’s. Jean made another stifled noise and shrugged. 

The bed felt so so good right now, soft and thick and  _ warm _ and Jean wanted to just lie there and sleep. But it was still relatively early, a bit light outside and he needed to wash and change.  _ So did Marco _ . That thought left a small shudder running through him and he moved his free hand to stroke Marco’s arm lightly. “How many boxers were there I didn't count.” He huffed out in an amused tone as he pulled the pillow away from him and looked down. He’d revealed a rather impressive—almost too much—wet patch on the front of his pants.

Finding himself the most relaxed he'd been all day, Marco shuddered with a slight hum at the stroking to his arm. He was trying to think over the question when Jean pulled the pillow away and Marco stifled a groan when he looked down, biting his lip to keep from openly licking his lips instead. "Wow… uhm… I… I don't remember. A few? We can both get changed at least." That much he was sure of at least. Reluctantly, he sat up to keep himself from falling asleep, not letting go of the other's hand until the need to stretch overwhelmed him and he did so with a groan. 

“Kay… that’s good. I dun really wanna wear those other pants without underwear… Dunno why they make chick’s stuff out of such thin fabric.” Jean joined Marco in sitting up and he arched in a languid stretch. His body was both tired and energised by what they’d just done and Jean shuffled to the edge of the bed before standing on slightly trembling legs. Apparently his orgasm had hit him harder than he thought. 

Blinking, Marco tilted his head, openly watching Jean stretch. His response was choked into a yawn that he was thankful for as it kept him from piping up with a question amounting to 'wait those are women's pants?' He didn't really care one way or the other and Jean  _ seemed _ incredibly casual about the idea. But he wasn't going to risk saying anything to make him feel even more weird or out of place. Instead, Marco gave a slight hum and a nod. "Yeah, there's more." 

Marco sighed and fidgeted where he sat. "Jean… Look. You don't have to be sorry about getting upset. You can keep apologizing and I can keep apologizing and we can both wind up apologizing ourselves sick. Or we can just agree we're both kind of jerks sometimes and forget about it?" Marco tilted his head at the other teen with a small smile. He tried to keep his response casual and relaxed but god he was  _ relieved _ . So relieved. They weren't going to wind up splitting up over Marco's idiocy. At least… not this time. Although he was definitely going to be  _ much _ more careful about upsetting Jean for a while. 

Jean chewed his lip, lifting his hand to rub at the back of his neck as Marco said they should stop apologising in circles. He agreed, he really did, but he still felt like he should explain himself. Even a little, even if he ended up feeling like an idiot because of it, because he just liked Marco  _ too much _ not to say it. If he didn’t he knew things would get awkward between them especially since they seemed to be on the road to exploring each others bodies more. “It’s not just that… I mean I’m really self-conscious so that’s why I reacted like that but  _ moreso _ since… getting sick. Like… everything about me has changed looks wise and I… still…” Jean couldn’t look anywhere but his feet as he pushed through. 

“I can’t even stand seeing myself in a mirror still so… having you see me makes me anxious I guess… and then in that sort of situation too and I’m glad it was mostly dark by then but then the laugh sort of made me over react. So I need you to know it’s not  _ really _ your fault…” When he was finished Jean busied himself with rifling through the drawer with the underwear in it. He felt stupid and once again vulnerable all over but Marco was  _ nice _ and  _ gentle _ in general and he really shouldn’t be worried. Right? It’d be ok, and maybe Marco would understand a bit better and not feel so guilty which would be a plus. As well as if they did anything else and Jean got weird about undressing or being looked at, he hoped that would shed some preemptive light on the situation.

Marco watched as Jean rubbed at his neck and seemed to be on the edge of saying something else, although hesitant. And then he  _ was _ speaking up again and the more he spoke, the more Marco's brow furrowed. He could appreciate the situation more with that perspective. He hadn't really given much thought to how Jean thought of his own appearance. Yes, he knew the other teen was self-conscious about it, he wasn't blind, but he hadn't realized it was  _ that _ bad. 

Standing carefully, Marco crossed the small space between them while Jean looked through the drawer. He moved to slip his arms around his boyfriend's waist, leaving a kiss against every patch of mismatched skin that he could easily reach before leaning his forehead against the back of the other's neck. "Sorry… I didn't really think about it like that. But for what it's worth… And I dunno how much it  _ is _ worth… I think you look really hot like this…" He bit at the inside of his cheek for a moment before letting his tone turn teasing. "Maybe I'm just into tragic white-haired anime boys." He huffed out a slight laugh before dropping back into something more genuine. "But you  _ do _ look good to me." Pressing another kiss to the back of Jean's neck, Marco had to stifle another yawn before pulling back. 

When Marco came to stand behind him Jean paused for a moment, the kisses making small tremors run through him and he hummed softly with pleasure. He’d never get tired of the feeling of Marco’s lips, at least he couldn’t even imagine it at this point. Then Marco was calling him hot and teasing about anime characters and Jean snorted slightly in amusement. “D-dork… I look like… Eighty when I’m naked.” Jean pulled out a pair of pale blue boxers and held them as he turned around, facing Marco who’d moved away slightly. 

Marco couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped him at that idea. "I somehow very much doubt that you'd look eighty. Not enough wrinkles." He stuck his tongue out briefly, trying to distract himself from the fact that he was now very fixated on the idea of seeing Jean naked. Sure he knew in theory that  _ all _ of a Survivor's hair lost its pigment but he hadn't really given it that much thought. Until now when he was suddenly very aware that Jean had implied it meant his pubes too and Marco found himself wondering whether the other teen's cock was as spotted and patterned as the rest of him. It had to be, didn't it? Marco found himself with absolutely  _ no _ chill, sitting on the bed quickly and moving his hands to his lap as subtly as he could. 

“Hmm how d’you know if I’m wrinkled or not?” Jean looked over his shoulder and stuck out his tongue, still embarrassed but feeling a bit better now it was out in the open. “Guess you’ll find out… s-sometime… maybe.” He said at last, fumbling with the clothes in his hands before he turned to the other boy sitting on the bed. 

Marco found himself very much hoping it was more than a 'sometime maybe' stammering out an agreement. Sure what they'd done was… great. But he wanted to be able to explore Jean everywhere. To touch, to taste, to  _ fuck _ … Marco's mind drifted briefly to the supplies he'd taken from the pharmacy, the condoms and lube stashed in his backpack. 

“B-but seriously," Jean continued. "That’s why… I mean if we do stuff again and… like I get funny. It’s not because I don’t wanna do it, or it feels bad. It’s just that I feel deformed. And t-thanks… I mean  _ really _ thanks, for saying I look good.” Jean smiled shyly, cheeks pink as he pointed towards the bathroom with a thumb. "I uh… gonna go… like change and wash up, unless you wanna go first? I don’t mind waiting.” He felt a glob of cold cum start to drip down his leg on the inside of the pants but he ignored it as he turned back to the cupboard to get the thin cargo pants that were folded on a shelf.

Offering up a smile in response to Jean's blush, Marco gave a slight laugh. "I'm not just saying it. I mean it. But I'll try to remember that you're… sensitive about it. But uh…" He considered how long it would take to will away his boner and the perils of crossing past the other boy with a stiffy given the current conversation and shook his head. "Y-you can go first. I went first before, right?" He was sorely tempted to just suggest they  _ share _ but he already knew there was no chance of Jean agreeing to that. Not yet, anyway. 

“I’ll go first then, can feel it dripping it’s gross.” Jean grimaced for effect and then grinned before leaning in to kiss Marco on the lips briefly, soft and sweet and fleeting. Then he turned around and tried not to walk funny into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Snickering at Jean's dramatic grimace, Marco rolled his eyes. He returned the fleeting kiss easily, only wishing it lasted longer. But they both needed to get clean and he watched Jean leave. 

Once inside and in private Jean let out a heavy breath and sagged against the counter. His heart was hammering hard in his chest and his fingers felt all trembly. Still, he felt good for telling Marco and explaining things and them just going back to normal. Well normal with the added bonus of actually having gotten each other off. Jean felt his stomach twist pleasantly with the memory of Marco… of what he’d  _ done to himself _ whilst Jean watched, of how he’d basically humped the white haired boy’s foot to completion. The power kick Jean got from that had been amazing and  _ dirty _ and wonderful. 

Jean yanked off the cumsoaked sweats and boxers and ran a sink full of water to wipe himself clean with, wondering if he could even get hard again at the memories flooding his mind. He felt  _ almost _ tempted to jerk off again but he didn’t get another erection and he was too tired to bother too much. The hot, pleasant heat of arousal in his lower gut was enough and he dressed again and left the dirty clothes in the corner of the bathroom. It wasn’t like there was any real  _ need _ to be tidy when they were going to be leaving again the next day. Jean exited through the hallway door and called out over his shoulder as he went to the lounge area. “M’all done Marco.” 

When Jean was gone into the bathroom, Marco collapsed back against the bed, running his hands over his face. He could still hardly believe what had happened. He'd put on a  _ show _ for Jean. He'd gotten himself off against Jean's  _ foot _ . And he'd  _ liked _ it, complying with the demand despite how it made him want to squirm. But he'd also liked having Jean  _ pinned _ underneath him, making him get off for Marco too. If this was what their sex life was like, he could handle a bit of drama. Still, Marco's heart ached with relief to have the atmosphere between them cleared. It was going to be  _ okay _ . 

Sparing a glance at the bathroom door, Marco couldn't resist palming at himself, quickly winding up with a hand shoved into the tight boxers as he stroked himself lazily, images replaying in his head. The sound of Jean's voice from the hallway made him jump, yanking his hand away reflexively as heat rushed to his cheeks. He breathed a sigh of relief when the other teen apparently moved farther away rather than closer, standing and grabbing a clean pair of underwear and his pants before heading for the privacy of the bathroom. Getting caught getting off  _ again _ so soon like that would have been  _ too _ embarrassing. 

Jean went to the sink to finish off his shoes, but they weren’t there. Confused, Jean looked around until he spotted them neatly by the door and he felt warmth flutter in his heart as he realised Marco must have finished cleaning the ruined one for him and put them there to dry. “T-thanks for… cleaning my shoe.” He called out in a slightly strained voice, smiling widely as he went about drawing the black-out blinds.

"S-sure thing." Marco smiled at the thanks as he called back his reply before closing the doors, knowing Jean would have had a hell of a time finishing that process himself. Tired but charged, Marco stripped himself of the soiled underwear before finishing what he'd started, leaning back against the vanity. Having  _ seen _ the expressions Jean could make, the pictures in his head were  _ much _ more vivid, bringing him over the edge quickly despite having just recently cum. He tried to keep himself quiet although a broken version of Jean's name wound up cracking out just at the peak of his climax that he  _ very much _ hoped was too quiet to hear. Cleaning himself up with some water, Marco fumbled to re-dress himself before heading out into the main area of the RV as well, choking down another yawn as his exhaustion started to catch up to him. Still, he didn't  _ want _ to sleep just yet, wanting to enjoy their evening of relative luxury instead. 

Jean was obvlious to Marco’s activities in the bathroom as he finished closing all the blinds in the RV. Feeling protected from the outside even more as the skies turned dim, he moved over to the fireplace and poked around at it a bit before figuring out how it worked. It flickered into life, the electric warmth soon seeping into him from the proximity and the artificial flames on the front panel soothing. Jean hummed and stood up. There was a tv above the fireplace but he knew they didn’t work any more, unless… He felt around the edges of it and felt the indentation of a DVD player along the right hand side,  he felt a small tumble of excitement over it. It was so  _ simple _ but something like TV had been an impossibility to him until now. He wondered if it had anything in it and tentatively switched the TV on as Marco came out of the bathroom.

“I shut all the blinds and put the fire on. I think this has…” He flipped the setting on the TV to DVD mode and the menu for some sort of action movie popped up. “Oh my god  _ yes _ there’s a DVD in the player, Marco!” He sounded like a kid, he  _ knew _ he sounded like a kid but this was fucking exciting. At least for Jean. Jean pressed play on the menu using the controls on the top of the TV because he had yet to see a remote and he couldn’t be bothered with the patience to locate it. ‘Jupiter Ascending’ started to play and Jean all but threw himself onto one of the oversized arm chairs. He paused for a moment before shuffling into a strained sitting position with his legs over the arm as he patted the space he’d created behind him. “Sit, come watch with me.”

Marco nodded slightly when Jean said he'd closed the blinds, feeling a flutter of that 'disgustingly domestic' sort of joy over the sight of the fireplace. He tilted his head as he saw Jean messing with the TV, frowning curiously. It wasn't like anything was broadcast anymore so why— _ Oh _ . Marco's eyes widened at the menu that popped up and he let out an absurd burst of disbelieving laughter. A movie. An actual movie? 

But actually  _ looking _ at the menu screen, Marco laughed with a groan. "Of course it has to be an  _ awful _ movie…" But still, he moved over to the chairs, watching as Jean collapsed into one of the chairs before adjusting himself and moving over. Marco couldn't help but blush at the offering, not hesitating more than a moment before squeezing himself into the space and tugging the other teen against him. Terrible movie or not, Marco's heart lurched in his chest. This was the kind of thing that just didn't  _ happen _ anymore. The kind of thing he'd never thought he'd be able to  _ do _ with Jean. Watching a movie curled up with his boyfriend just… wasn't something that could  _ happen _ anymore. And yet here they were. He could almost cry with the overwhelmed sensation. 

“Who cares if it’s terrible or not. It’s a fukken movie!” Jean sounded excited, leaning back against Marco as he was pulled there and muffling a soft noise of contentment as he did. There was still a little lingering awkwardness within him, but it was mainly because he’d sulked for so long and then made Marco get off  _ on his foot _ . The power of it had been a strange rush, though, and Marco had looked amazing. Jean did his best to stifle his blush and then wipe the thoughts from his mind completely because  _ this _ was not going to be ruined by his libido rearing it’s head again. 

Marco chuckled slightly at Jean's enthusiasm, grinning to himself. "Yeah that's true." He didn't care what the movie was. It didn't matter. It was something they could have and share and he  _ cherished _ that. The little moments had become so much more important. He settled himself in more comfortably.  

Jean focused on the tv after a small internal debate. He didn’t care that it was apparently an awful movie, or that he was wearing women's pants or that the car they’d been using seemed like it’d probably break pretty soon. Right now they were warm, they had working electricity and had had a hot shower and his shoe was pretty much clean again thanks to Marco—Marco the fucking angel who dealt with brain matter where Jean could hardly handle trying to scrub them. He sighed happily and changed position slightly, shifting to lie in Marco’s lap as he watched the movie and gradually fell asleep in that position.

When Jean adjusted to lie in his lap, he hummed contentedly, idly bringing a hand to pet at his hair, the movie reduced to not much more than background noise. When the movie credits started to roll, Marco blinked himself out of his daze. He nudged at Jean's head lightly. "Jean… Jean let's get some sleep…" He prodded and nudged at the other boy until he could get him awake enough to half-drag him the short distance to the bed before flopping them both into it. They'd have to get going again in the morning but for the time being he was intent on making the most of the comfort of a  _ bed _ . It didn't take long for him to fall asleep properly. 

Jean muffled a sound of protest as he was nudged at and woken from a rather pleasant dream. He blinked his eyes open but could hardly focus, exhausted and content for the moment it was hard for him to muster the will to move at all from the comfort of Marco’s lap. But he managed to roll to a stand and Marco sort of half dragged him to the bed. It was bliss, a soft mattress and a warm duvet and Marco next to him. Jean promptly wrapped himself around the other boy and fell back to sleep.


End file.
